


And the Winner Is

by batchbabe



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Some Fluff, almost real world, cumberfluff, not explicit noncon, psychological effects of noncon, short scene of nonconsensual sexual nature, some smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2014-03-04
Packaged: 2018-01-06 09:29:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 36
Words: 85,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batchbabe/pseuds/batchbabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This begins by being a story focused on the character's love of David Tennant, but becomes something entirely different when she ends up meeting Benedict Cumberbatch (who she considers over-rated, arrogant, and rude) and learns not to take things at face value. They begin an almost reluctant friendship, but that soon grows into much more. There are additional sub-plots. If you're looking for fan-fic smut, this isn't it (though eventually there is a little bit of smut here and there). If you're looking for an excellent story about what we all wish our lives could be like with Benedict, this is exactly what you want!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Can't Do This

**Author's Note:**

> I know David Tennant is not single, but neither am I rich, so for the story, everybody is what I want them to be.
> 
> If you are looking for Benedict Cumberbatch, he will be coming up in chapter 2 (mention of him) and 3 (he makes his appearance), and then he will be one of the main two characters for the rest of the story.

Okay, so I was rich. Had been rich since winning the uber-lottery prize almost a year ago. And I had had plenty of fun with it! Bought 12 new houses (only one for myself - the rest for family and friends), 26 new cars (2 for myself there), and started 15 college funds for my nieces and nephews and cousin's kids and friend's kids. So it wasn't like I hadn't been generous or anything. It's just that Sam (my cousin and dedicated financial attorney) insisted that I needed to start being wise and systematic about donating to charities.

Therefore, we hired some people to look into various small charities. Sam had suggested that I pick a cause, a particular issue that really hit my heart, so I would be organized in my giving. He also suggested that I start a foundation, and I would eventually, but for awhile, I wanted to be directly involved with the gifts I gave. 

But there were so many issues! I wanted to save every single abused person and animal in the world. I wanted to make sure that every child on the planet got enough food every day, and an excellent education as well. I wanted every home in America to have a decent computer with broadband internet service. I even wanted to make sure that one day we got back into space as a nation - back to the moon, and on to Mars. 

But in the end, I went with my gut, and I chose women and children. Specifically, homeless women and children. Because more than all the other stuff I thought of, I wanted people to have homes - safe homes, where they felt secure and loved, or at least unafraid, to return to every single day. I thought of abused women and children, and decided that homeless women and children were sure to be abused in some way, so my focus would be on homeless women and children. Mainly children, and the women that tended to come with them.

That's when I saw something incredibly interesting on Tumblr. Yes, I was a 31-year-old nearly-billionaire, and I spent time on Tumblr. My not-so-secret major fan crush on British actor David Tennant is why I was on Tumblr at least 3-4 times a week. There I could find pictures of him and updates on the work he was doing. I figured I wasn't doing anybody any harm, and now that I was so rich, it wasn't like I'd be able to trust any man to date me for my own good qualities outside of my bank account, so...this little celebrity crush kept me company for now. 

So the interesting thing - a celebrity auction to benefit a shelter for homeless youth in London. The celebrities auctioned off (one date with your favorite celebrity bachelors) included David Tennant. I sensed a trip to London in my very near future.

** ** ** ** **

Sam's response was not exactly what I had expected when I told him about my upcoming adventure.

"But you can't do this," he'd cawed, "it doesn't fit in with your plan!"

"I can do it, and it does fit in my plan, and furthermore, I'm GOING to do it," I'd responded with a laugh.

"How exactly does it fit in with your plan?" Sam had demanded.

"It is a celebrity auction to benefit homeless youth in London," I answered.

"But your focus has to be America. You can't save the whole world, you know."

"That may be true. But this is something I'm doing for ME as well as for the homeless youth of London. And you know what? I think maybe I can save the whole world, or at least parts of it. I don't have to worry about only Americans; that's ridiculous and very ethnocentric of you to say."

"Well, get ready to suddenly be in the public eye again. Remember how annoyed you were when you first won the lottery and all the news media was hounding you for your reaction? This will be the same kind of thing. And what, do you think that on one date this guy is going to fall for you and propose or something, just because you're rich and can afford to buy his time?"

"Ouch," I said, flinching. Sam was getting kind of personal there. "Sam, that was just mean. And no. My thought process is more along the line of - who else could I enjoy an evening out with but somebody else who couldn't trust people to like them for their own qualities? Even if I met a man who was interested in me, I'd never know for sure whether it was me or my money. Celebrities know people are only interested in them because of their fame. I mean, even I'm only interested in David Tennant because of his fame; otherwise, I'd never even know who he is. But there's a chance of a nice evening out with somebody I can sort of relate to and who I know from all his press is fun and funny and interesting. But MAINLY, dear cousin, I feel like donating to this fabulous charity and having a visit to London are worth the money I'm going to spend. And I DO care about homeless youth in London. It's very cold there, I hear."

Sam huffed, rolled his eyes, shuffled some papers on his desk, and finally shrugged. "Well, I guess you do deserve a fun time out. It's been more like a huge job for you with all this money. And it is about time you start to travel. I suppose this won't be the worst thing in the world. But you are planning to take a friend with you, right? I don't want you in London all alone."

I grinned. "Yes, DAD, I will be taking my oldest and dearest friend, Melissa."

Sam smiled a small smile, and looked at me sincerely. "You know, Jennifer, I only want what's best for you."

I walked behind his desk and hugged him. I was lucky to have my very favorite cousin managing my finances, and helping to manage my life. "Yes, I know, Sam. Thank you."


	2. Unbelievable Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We arrive in London, shop, and get to the auction, only to be completely amazed and horrified by the nerve of some people...and make a last-minute decision that will change everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first apologize for taking so long...I have quite a few chapters written now so they will come out regularly for the extent of this story. I want to make the disclaimer that I do not know London at all, so I'm sure I've got details wrong...please stick with the story anyway. :) Also, in this and future chapters, the personalities, dating- or marriage-status of the celebrities mentioned is all made up by me. Undoubtedly some of these guys are married, dating, or whatever, but in my little story world, they are single! And much funner that way, I'm sure.

As the charity event was to be in October, I had 3 months to plan everything. My friend, Melissa, would not agree to let me give her enough money to quit working and hang out with me, so I was lucky she had enough vacation time coming from her job. We would spend two and a half weeks in London, with the charity event on the third day (Saturday). Neither of us had been out of the United States except to go to Canada (and as we lived in Minnesota, that barely counted as out of the country), so we were both terribly excited. Another stroke of luck – Melissa's ex-husband agreed to take their two children for the two weeks without even an argument – a first for him.

I took care of entering us into the auction. There was a fee to enter, in addition to the amount I would be donating in exchange for a date with David Tennant. There were background checks for all participants, so I sent in forms for both Melissa and me. Sam's concern was whether everything was tax deductible. My concern was how the actual event would work. The brochure I received cleared up some questions, and amused me at the same time. 

There were warnings on almost every page that this was in no way a SEXUAL date – the winners would get to choose one outing, as long as it was approved of by the celebrity in question, and would pay for it, and would expect no physical contact of any nature to be part of the deal. I actually found it a little disturbing how often that was mentioned. Did rich people really think they could buy sex from a celebrity? And would they use the guise of a charity donation to do so? I considered how being famous could put people into some potentially precarious situations, and I almost decided to just send a check and never mind the celebrity auction part.

But I figured that since I knew I would not behave inappropriately, that was one less David Tennant who had to worry about sex-crazed fanatics expecting more of them than an interesting day out. And I had a very interesting plan for a day out indeed!

I offered to give Melissa the money for her own celebrity date, but she wasn't the slightest bit interested. She had been seeing a new man, Roman, and didn't want to do anything that could seem inappropriate or mess up a potential future with him. I showed her all the “no-physical-relationship” stuff in the brochure, but she said she would just be embarrassed the whole time. She finally convinced me that she would have a great time by herself on the day that I went out with David Tennant.

** ** ** ** **

We arrived at Heathrow Airport on Thursday at around noon...which was odd as we had left Minneapolis at 10 pm the previous night and the flight was only about 8 hours long. Time travel! But we were terribly jet-lagged, so we ended up taking a 3-hour nap. Then it was time to do SOMETHING in London! We were at this charming hotel called the Dukes Hotel, which was near Piccadilly Circus. We decided to walk, and when we hit the intersection of Regent and Piccadilly, it was like walking onto my TV screen! There was the big TDK and Sanyo sign. We took pictures in front of those signs, and in front of the Shaftesbury Memorial and statue, and all over. Finally, we found a restaurant/pub and had Shepherd's Pie (which was REALLY good) in celebration of being in England. Then we set out to just walk and observe. I had brought my GPS to make sure we wouldn't get lost, so we had a blast, and must have walked about 15 miles around the streets of London before we finally got back to the hotel and ordered room service.

Friday we decided to shop for clothes for the charity event and for the rest of our visit in London. And did we ever shop! We stuck to an area at Bond Street and Mayfair, and hit Burberry, Dolce Gabbana, Louis Vuitton, and Ralph Lauren, among other fancy shops. We bought numerous dresses, shoes, lingerie, and tons of new, high-quality makeup. We had the time of our lives! Having money to spend like that was so new for me, as I had come from a lower-middle-class family and was not used to extravagance. To shop at the most prestigious shops in the WORLD was so exciting, and it wore me out entirely. Our main focus was to get gorgeous clothes for the auction, which was labeled “semi-formal,” but all the pictures I saw of past auctions looked pretty formal to me.

In the end, we both bought beautiful shift dresses of finely knit silk and bamboo, and delicate jewelry to match. We didn't look identical, but we probably could have passed for sisters, especially dressed in similar outfits. Melissa's dress was classic black and looked beautiful on her pale skin (no tan for her, working inside all summer long). I chose a periwinkle blue to highlight my very blue eyes and still-tanned skin. In the end, we both looked stunning.

We had a car pick us up on Saturday for the event, which was being held at 30 St Mary Axe, or “The Gherkin”, a building I had seen on movies and TV, but knew best from one of the Harry Potter movies. It was a beautiful building, and the auction event was being held on one of the top floors, with a mixer to be held for the winners and celebrities at Searcy's, the bar/lounge at the very top of the building, after the auction was over. 

When we arrived, there were people waiting to escort the donors to the event. Both Melissa and I were gawping at everything, and I had no doubt we telegraphed “TOURIST” to everybody who saw us, but I didn't care, and I doubted Melissa did, either. The escort was so British! He had on a tuxedo and top hat, and greeted us with, “Ladies,” and a bow. An actual bow! We each looped an arm into one of his, and headed to the elevator. 

Once our escort left us on the proper floor, we registered and entered the large room, where about 60 people were mingling and chatting and drinking the champagne that was being carried around on trays by waiters. Melissa grabbed and squeezed my hand. “This is so not me!” she said. “This place is full of actual rich people, actual rich Europeans, I'm afraid I'm going to look like an idiot!”

I squeezed Melissa's hand back. “Well, if you do, we'll look like idiots together. Just because I now have all this money doesn't mean I know how to act like a rich person.”

We stood together near a wall, chatting a bit, observing the obviously highly classy people mingling about. At one point, two women who seemed near our age came up to talk to us. “So, hi, I'm Maeve and this is Regina,” the taller one said, with what I thought was a Welsh accent.

“Hi,” I answered, “I'm Jennifer and this is Melissa.”

“Ooh, you're American! Did you come over all that way for the auction?” asked Regina.

“Well, that's the main thing, but we wanted to do some traveling anyway,” I answered.

“So you're a couple then?” asked Maeve.

I blushed. “Um, no, just best friends since childhood. And you?” I didn't know if it was polite or rude to ask about their status, but she brought it up first, so I figured it was okay.

“Oh, yes, we've been together for about four years now,” Maeve answered, putting her arm around Regina's waist. “We're going to bid on Andrew Scott, as we figure that's the most appropriate date for us. Mainly it's about the charity, but what fun to hang out with Andrew Scott for a day.” 

Andrew Scott was one of the celebrities that I actual had heard of, and knew he was gay, so I could see their point. I grinned. “I'm going for David Tennant,” I said. “I believe he's totally appropriate for me!”

We all laughed, and chatted for a bit more, and then Maeve and Regina moved on to some of the other guests. 

After awhile, we were chatting in a big group, and I excused myself to go to the bathroom. I so badly wanted to say “loo” but I figured it would sound ridiculous. Melissa didn't come with me, as she was in animated discussion with a couple of French women – she was fluent in French and thrilled to get to use it with actual French people.

The bathroom was as grand and beautiful as the rest of the building, black and glass and chrome. I had just sat down, when a large group of women entered, giggling and talking. At first, I didn't pay attention to what they were saying, but when I caught the word “fuck” my ears pricked up.

“We're all going to get the chance to fuck him,” was the sentence I first caught. Then I started listening.

“Which one of us should bid?” asked another voice.

“Well, Laura was actually able to use the ID of a coworker, so she'll bid.” Then they discussed how much they had all together to pay. I noted that it was about 2/3 of what I had planned to spend.

“Great, then she can take Benedict to Marie's restaurant.”

“I'll keep the restaurant closed, but we'll all be in there to make it look open. I'll change the sign just before you pull up, and then Hannah can play the greeter, and put the sign back to closed and lock the door after you have walked in,” said the lady who was obviously Marie.

“I got the drug from the lockup,” said another voice. “It will probably never be noticed, but they'd never think a lowly secretary would be able to get in, so I'm totally safe.” I assumed she worked at a doctor's office or a hospital.

“Oh, my God!” squealed another woman, “I can't believe we're going to basically kidnap and rape Benedict Cumberbatch! We have to make sure to get lots of pictures!”

I was horrified. Was this some kind of joke? I seriously thought somebody was going to jump out at me when I left the bathroom yelling, “You've been punked!” or whatever British version of the same thing existed. I mean, this was like a TV show. People didn't really do things like this, did they?

Then I got scared. Hadn't these ladies checked to see if anybody was in the bathroom before discussing their ridiculous plan? I looked up at my stall door, and realized it hadn't actually locked, and was partially open. So perhaps they had checked, and not noticed my feet. As they were planning a heinous crime, and I was kind of terrified, I slowly lifted up my feet so they wouldn't be noticed, and tried to breathe as quietly as possible.

Over the next few minutes – which seemed to take a couple of hours or so – the women discussed the plan further. Apparently, they were going to go in together to bid on Benedict Cumberbatch, and were then going to follow this crazy (but oddly plausible) plan to drug and rape him. They discussed how long to keep him, and how the drug would basically wipe his memory and he wouldn't even realize what had happened. I was totally disgusted as I realized that not only was this really happening, but that they had it planned out so well, it might actually work. If there was really a drug that could wipe his memory, they could even get away with it.


	3. And the Winner Is...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer makes a life-altering decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how these things really work. I'm making it all up. Just remember that when you read it k? However, I am not totally making up Project Off Streets. It is a very small organization in Minneapolis, MN, that does do this kind of work. They are in no way huge enough to have events like this, but if you happened to be itching to donate spare money somewhere, look them up!

I was so relieved (as were my stomach muscles) when the ladies finally left the bathroom. I put my feet back down, finished my business, and washed up, as my mind whirled in horror. I had to tell somebody about this horrifying plan. I was shaking as I entered the main room again, and I went straight to Melissa. I pulled her away from the French ladies, and told her what had happened.

Her reaction was similar to mine. “No way, this can't be really happening!”

“I know, that's what I thought, but they were very detailed.” 

“Well, which people were they, did you see them?” 

I realized then what a coward I had been, not to try and see who these women were so I could point them out to somebody and tell them what they were up to. “No,” I answered miserably. “I don't know what to do.” 

We finally decided to try to tell an official of some sort what was going on. I was nervous, as it sounded so ridiculous. Apparently, that's what the person at the registration table thought when I tried to explain what I had heard in order to get him to find somebody in charge. “Now, love, it's going to be a fair auction, you can't try getting rid of the competition with an hilarious story like that,” he said, and turned away from me to do something with his papers. After a few attempts to convince him, I realized there would be no luck there, and all the other official people were completely out of sight at the moment.

“You know what you have to do,” Melissa said once we had given up.

“I have to find somebody to tell!” I answered.

“No, it doesn't look like we'll be able to. You have to bid on Benedict Cumberbatch.”

I blinked. “What? No, I'm bidding on David Tennant.” I thought for a moment. “I could spend more, and bid on Benedict Cumberbatch for you to go out with,” I offered.

Melissa's face turned bright red. “I'd love to do that to help you or to help him out, but I really can't. I wouldn't say a single word the whole time, I'd just giggle or even throw up. I told you before we came here, it's just totally out of the question.”

I thought about what Melissa had said. The rules said each person could only bid successfully on one bachelor, so there was no way I could bid on both David Tennant and Benedict Cumberbatch. I didn't really know a lot about Benedict Cumberbatch, except that he was really popular on Tumblr, and women seemed to go completely insane over him. I had watched his show, Sherlock, and it was really good. But I didn't understand why women were so ga-ga over him. He wasn't very attractive to me - he had a very long head, a strangely large mouth, and the most arrogant, pompous-sounding voice I had ever heard in a British man.

But surely he didn't deserve to be treated the way these women were going to treat him. Even if he was a completely arrogant ass (which I thought he might be, but didn't know for sure), he still didn't deserve THAT. But I had been so looking forward to meeting David Tennant, and spending an adventurous day with him. I would have to give that up. Well, maybe there would be an opportunity for me to tell somebody before the auction started.

** ** ** **

As soon as the organizers began to appear on the stage, I realized there would be no chance for me to talk to somebody. Bouncers were placed at a few strategic locations to make sure none of the guests went beyond the line toward where the presenters and bachelors would be.

We took seats at a small table with the French contingent Melissa had made friends with, and soon after that, the first presenter came on stage. He explained the charity, Project Off Streets, and how it benefited the youth of London by providing them with a room in their building, job training, financial training, and various other programs to assist them in learning to fend for themselves in the world. Then a few young men and women who had used the program and gone on to various types of success came up and talked about what the program meant to them, and how we should be as generous as possible so that more youth could be helped in the future.

I listened, as I was very interested in their stories, but another part of my brain was arguing with itself. I wanted David Tennant. I had enough to bid on him and win. I had looked at the amounts of the winning bids from previous years' events, and I had more than twice as much as had ever been bid on the most famous of bachelors. There was no reason for me not to win my day with David Tennant.

But there was. There was this fellow, Benedict Cumberbatch, who had the chance of actually being assaulted as a result of trying to help an under-served section of the population. He was here to do good, and evil could befall him as a result. And I could stop it. It would be easy; I had far more money to spend than the women in the bathroom had said they had. But wait...these were scary women. If I outbid them, would I be in danger? I tried to decide if this was a legitimate concern, but the whole thing was so unreal in general that I could hardly believe I could actually be in danger. Ridiculous.

The first celebrity to be auctioned off was a man I had never heard of, Alex Petyfer. This was obviously not true of the whole audience, though, as the bidding began with screeches and giggles, and Alex walked back and forth on the stage after being introduced by the emcee. When the highest bid was finally reached, the woman who won screeched and jumped up and down, and the rest of the audience cheered, and Alex kissed his hand and bowed holding out the hand he had just kissed in the direction of the winner.

This went on through 5 more celebrities – some who I actually had heard of and one, Daniel Radcliffe, who I definitely knew! I felt rather old to be seeing a manly Daniel Radcliffe at this type of auction, when I could still remember him as a little round-spectacled boy on Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone!

After Daniel, it was David Tennant's turn to be auctioned off. He was another one the audience cheered for especially loud, as he was very well-known and loved. I found myself cheering, too, and thinking hard as to what I should do. So far, nobody had bid more than 1/2 of the money I had decided to spend, so I knew I could win. The highest bid so far had gone to Matt Smith, of Doctor Who fame, and it was nowhere near what I had to spend. What to do? 

As the bidding began, I regretfully made my decision. I would do what I could to prevent this Benedict Cumberbatch guy from being assaulted. It never occurred to me that I could bid on David Tennant and tell the program coordinators what had happened once I was an official donor. Perhaps I would have had their ear then, and I could have prevented the assault. But that was something I thought about later – not in time to place my bid on David Tennant. And so one of the ladies at my own table, one of the French ladies, won the bid with far less than I had been prepared to spend. I smiled and cheered, but of course, my heart was not in it.

Three bachelors more, and then it was Benedict Cumberbatch. There were a lot of bids for him, so I couldn't tell which woman was the evil one I was bidding against. I didn't know when I should jump in with my bid. Should I join the game, and bid just a bit more than the last person? Should I pop up and bid my whole amount, and just shut everybody up? I decided on the latter, but waited until about 10 bids had already been placed. I jumped up and stated my bid, and a hush fell on the crowd, if only for a moment. Apparently, my bid was unexpectedly high, and it went once, twice, and I won the bid unchallenged.

Unlike the rest of the winners, I did not screech and jump around. I merely smiled ruefully and sat back down. I glanced around to see if anybody looked particularly angry with me, and noticed a small group of women who looked quite unpleasant. So that was most likely them. I couldn't be sure, though. There didn't seem to be as many as I had heard in the bathroom. My heart pounded with actual fear, as I kept an eye on that group and noticed that for the rest of the auction, not one of them bid on any bachelor. Yep, that was definitely them. Perhaps they had split up and others of their group were sitting in different places. 

What I was grateful for was that none of them would be at the mixer for the celebrities and their “dates” and guests. Although Melissa would not be accompanying me on my date with Benedict (mainly because the activity I had planned was too scary for her), she would join me at the mixer at the top of the building, which began as soon as the auction was over and the winning bidders had filled out and signed some paperwork. I was nervous to meet Benedict, and hopeful that at the mixer, at least, I would get to meet David Tennant.


	4. Kind of a Jerk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer meets with Benedict Cumberbatch, and he is not what she expected - he's worse! Luckily, she has other people to keep her company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, don't be mad at me, of course Benedict is not really a jerk, and he has his reasons for being a jerk in this scene...which you will find out in the next scene. And again, the celebrities I want to be single are single for the world of this story.

If I had thought the room where the auction was held was beautiful, it was nothing compared to Searcy's at the top of the building. We went up in groups in the elevator, and when I stepped out it was like a magical, moonlit terrarium. We were completely surrounded on all sides and above by clear glass, and all of London, it seemed, was in our range of view, sparkling like fairy lights set up just for us. I was so awed, I just stood there, surely gaping like an idiot. But Melissa was beside me, gaping as well, as were the French ladies we had begun to hang out with. “Oh, que c'est beau!” exclaimed one of the women (Vivienne), and although I didn't know French at all, I totally agreed with her.

The celebrity bachelors were standing on one side of a long table, and that is where we went to be introduced to them. I was excited, because the lounge area of the room was filled with small tables with four to five chairs around them. I whispered to Melissa, “Let's sit with the French ladies,” and Melissa in turn whispered to Vivienne, who was the one who had actually bid on David Tennant. She had her friend with her as I had Melissa with me, so we would make two groups of three. 

Vivienne smiled at me and in perfect, nearly accentless English, said, “We would be charmed to share a table and conversation with you and Melissa. I understand you had been hoping to meet David Tennant. And I would love to also meet Benedict Cumberbatch, who was my second choice if you had outbid me on David.” She winked and grinned, and I grinned back. This was turning out to be a decent night after all.

After a few other women (all the winners were women, though some men had bid on a couple of the celebrities) met their “dates” and went to sit down, it was time for Vivienne and her friend, Elaine, to meet David Tennant. I was standing just a few feet from my most favorite famous person, and he was as smiley and friendly as I had imagined him to be! “Well, hello, it's so nice to meet you, I'm David,” he said to Vivienne, and to her credit, she did not fall down and faint, or even squeal a little bit.

“Charmed, thank you, this is my friend Elaine,” she said, indicating Elaine. “And these two ladies will be joining us along with Benedict Cumberbatch, if that is okay with you, when we sit down?”

David smiled at me and Melissa, and said, “Of course, the more the merrier,” and reached out to shake each of our hands. I had promised myself I would not act like an idiot when I met him, so my inside self and outside self had to part ways for a moment. Inside, I was melting and squealing and jumping up and down and vowing to never wash that hand again! Outside me was very cool. I smiled and said, “Thank you, it's very nice to meet you.” Melissa greeted him in some kind of normal way, too, but I wasn't really paying attention.

Next, we were matched with Benedict Cumberbatch, and his greeting was miles apart from David's. He was rather still, and though he shook my hand and smiled, sort of, he simply did not radiate cheeriness the way David did. “Hello, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he said as he took my hand. But I didn't believe him for a second. His smile didn't reach half way to his eyes, and his grip on my hand was brief and perfunctory.

“You as well,” I said. “This is my friend, Melissa, she will be joining us this evening. And we were going to sit with these others as well,” I told him, as I indicated Vivienne, Elaine, and David, who were standing just off to the side of the table.

“Very well, hello Melissa, nice to meet you.” He turned to David. “Good to see you again, David.” 

David smiled curiously, looking a bit confused, but still looking loads cheerier than Benedict. “Yeah, it's been nearly a year since the thing. It's good to see you. This is a great charity, and we'll have a nice time tonight with these beautiful ladies, won't we?”

Benedict grimaced. I cannot think of another word for what he did with his face. I glanced at Melissa, who glanced back at me, confounded. The random man on the street did not greet us with such rudeness, and neither of us would have expected it out of a celebrity who had, after all, chosen to support Project Off Streets in this exact way. I could tell David and the other ladies were confused as well. “I'm sure that we will,” said Benedict, belying the look on his face, as though he had bit into something at least mildly sour.

David led the way to two tables that were sitting together, and we passed a number of celebrities on the way. I saw Aidan Turner, Orlando Bloom, and Robert Pattinson. There were a few people I wasn't familiar with, but I hoped to meet them during the mixer. David was entirely polite and friendly – exactly how I had pictured him to be. He combined the two tables and arranged six chairs around them, and held the chairs for Vivienne and Elaine. Benedict stood stiffly to the side as David did all this, chattering away about the beautiful view and the lights of London. David was about to sit down when he noticed Benedict had not moved any closer, so he held out the chairs for me and Melissa as well, while giving a frown to Benedict.

Benedict sat between me and Melissa, with Vivienne to my left, and Elaine to Melissa's right. David faced directly at Benedict, and I could see him try to catch his eye. Benedict, however, had picked up the wine list from a little holder on the table, and was perusing the choices.

“Well,” said David, “what a lovely event. Tell me how you came to know about Project Off Streets.” He spoke facing Vivienne, so she answered him first. She told of her cousin who had been a homeless kid in Paris once, and through some seedy drug connections had ended up in London, selling heroin. He was only 15 when he found Project Off Streets, and left the dangerous criminal life behind. He was currently a successful shop owner in Paris and had never even come close to going back to any illicit ways.

“That's a wonderful story,” David said, “I wonder if he would ever want to be one of the speakers at this event.”

“No,” Vivienne answered, “he would give a written testimonial, but he hates talking about his past. They have actually asked him if he would speak, and he really struggled with the idea, but in the end he had to refuse. Luckily they always come up with enough speakers, though.”

There was a somewhat uncomfortable conversational pause, during which David looked meaningfully, and a little bit urgently at Benedict. Benedict shifted in his seat, turned his gaze on me, and said, “And you, Jennifer? How did you hear about the charity?” He spoke so properly that I could tell he didn't care at all about my answer, but was only fulfilling social necessity. What the hell was up with this guy, I wondered, wishing again that I had bid on David Tennant. I was going to have to spend a whole DAY with this pompous ass in the next week, and it was looking like it would be nothing short of torturous.

I reminded myself that I had still saved him from unknown horrors, and put on a smile. I was embarrassed to admit how I had found Project Off Streets, but I figured I had nothing to lose by simply telling the truth. “To be honest, it's not quite as impressive a story as Vivienne's,” I began. “About a year ago, I won a huge lottery, and my cousin, who's helping me figure out my finances, helped me narrow down what types of charities I was going to donate to. I decided to focus on homeless women and children, and then I saw...” I stopped for a moment, looking around the table, face burning. “Well, I saw a post about this event on Tumblr, and I figured, why not have fun while giving to a good cause? My cousin checked out Project Off Streets, found it was a legitimate affair, and here I am.”

Benedict huffed a little, and completely brushed off all I had said by saying, “Shall I order wine for the whole table, or do any of you have a preference?” 

David looked at us each, and we indicated we didn't really care, and he answered, “Go ahead, mate, whatever you think is best.” 

I wanted to hear his beautiful voice more, so I asked him how he had gotten involved in Project Off Streets, and as he talked, I was lost in his voice, in his kindness, in his beautifully warm brown eyes, in his adorable freckles, in the way his kissable mouth moved to make those beautiful words... I snapped to attention as I found my mind wandering into totally inappropriate territory. Maybe it was good for David that I hadn't bid on him, after all!

After David's story, both Melissa and Elaine told how they had come to accompany me and Vivienne – basically the same story: best friends, on holiday, something fun to do but didn't want to participate. 

Benedict waved a waiter over and ordered a bottle of wine for the table, in a most incredibly pompous manner, and we were all at a loss for what to say. I could feel everyone's attention unwillingly focused on Benedict and his horrible manners. After a few very long seconds, David stood up and said, “Ben, let's go see if we can find some h'ors d'ouvres or something, shall we?” and stood by Benedict's chair, expecting him to rise. He did, and off the two wandered.

“My goodness,” Elaine said, “what is wrong with that man? Vivienne, you are so lucky you didn't end up with him, he is an asshole. Jennifer, what are you going to do with him?”

“Well, what I have planned for our date doesn't necessarily require a lot of communication, so I suppose, if he's not too scared, we'll do that, and then I won't have to worry about it. If it didn't state in the rules that we were compelled to go on the date, I would just cancel. If it weren't for meeting you two and David, I would have said this was a huge waste of time and money. But you are absolutely lovely, thank you for making tonight more fun than it would have been otherwise, and for sharing David's kindness with us.”

Vivienne looked like she actually had tears in her eyes, but from her words, I understood that if she had, they were tears of frustration and anger. “It is so rude. It is completely wrong for him to volunteer to do this charity event and then act as if it were the worst night of his life, and we were the lowliest scum on earth. You said that you go on Tumblr? You should definitely describe his behavior on that site once this is all over. Let his fans know what he is really like.” She sounded so indignant, I felt happy to have her stick up for me. 

“And to think,” Melissa added, “that's who you were going to bid on if you didn't get David!” 

“You haven't told them why I bid on Benedict instead?” I asked her. 

“I don't think they would believe me if I told them,” Melissa answered.

So of course the ladies were dying to know, and so of course Melissa told them what had happened. “Oh, no,” said Vivienne, “you did this to be kind to him and he acts this horrible way. What a...what a dickhead!” She didn't sound as though she had ever used the word before, and giggled after saying it, but I agreed with her wholeheartedly.

Just as we were all working into slightly hysterical giggles, David and Benedict returned to the table, and stood by my chair. “Jennifer,” David said, “Benedict would like to talk to you at a private table for a few moments. Would you mind? Melissa can stay here and chat with us.”


	5. Why Was Benedict So...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out why Benedict has been such an ass to Jennifer et al, and the misunderstanding is cleared up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger - no actually I'm not, that was fun - but here is the conclusion. Not to the story, just to the curious incident of Benedict Cumberbatch being a total dick - cuz we all know he wouldn't be that way, right?

I stood up, not knowing what to think, and Benedict crooked his arm for me to take. I slipped my hand through his arm, gave Melissa a somewhat alarmed look, and headed off to a table that was slightly separate from the other couples and groups. Benedict held my chair out for me this time, and then sat down. I stared at him silently, wondering what on earth he could be about to say. I did not expect what he actually did say!

He tented his fingers on the table, sliding them back and forth a bit, and looked nervous. Finally, he said, “You understand that this event is in no way to lead to any type of romantic, physical, or sexual encounter, do you not?” he asked.

I gaped. I'm sure my jaw dropped open in a most unattractive manner, but I couldn't help it. What the hell was he talking about? “Well, it does say that at least once on every page of the brochure they sent me,” I answered incredulously. “And even if not, I don't go around expecting to or having sex with complete strangers, even if they are famous.”

Benedict watched his hands, still sliding back and forth on the table. Silence.

Finally, I broke the silence. “Why do you ask?” I demanded, a bit roughly.

“Well,” said Benedict, looking me in the face for the first time since we had sat down, “you bid a very high amount for me. Usually each bidder raises the previous bid by a couple of hundred dollars or so, and you nearly doubled the bid that came before you. You bid more on me than any one donor has ever given at one time to Project Off Streets. I have been trying to think of your motive, and couldn't think of any other reason you might do that. Then when you told your story of only recently coming into wealth, I figured that you had learned in the past year that you could buy anything you want, if you threw enough money at it.”

I could not believe my ears. I hmphed, trying to pick out one of the ideas running through my head to actually say to this arrogant bastard. “I...I...What...How...” I stammered, getting even more tongue-tied as I got angrier because of my inability to speak coherently.

“What am I supposed to think?” asked Benedict, as if I had actually answered him. “Your eloquent answer has not convinced me otherwise as yet.”

This time I had no problem answering. “You arrogant bastard!” I exclaimed. “You seriously think...has fame gotten to your head that hugely? Do you actually think that people are trying to buy your body!?” I was about to continue in this vein, when I realized that the entire reason I was sitting with Benedict Cumberbatch instead of David Tennant was because somebodies, plural, did think they could purchase Benedict's body.

“Wait, wait,” I said, as I saw he was about to speak again. “I came to this auction with a certain amount of money to donate to Project Off Streets. I did my research. I knew this would be the largest donation so far, but I have this ridiculous amount of money, and don't entirely know what to do with it. And for your information, I was determined to spend that much in order to get to meet David Tennant, not you.”

Benedict smirked. “Well, now I know you are lying,” he said coolly.

I decided that hot-headed me would only make a worse impression, so I calmed myself, and asked how he could possibly have _deduced_ that, sarcastically reminding him that I wasn't buying into his idea of himself as Sherlock Holmes.

He didn't seem too amused by that. “Because David Tennant was on before me, and because Vivienne bid far less on him than you did on me.”

“Oh, and that proves I'm lying,” I said. “It's not possible that there were circumstances you maybe didn't know about? Like perhaps after being friendly with Vivienne, I decided to let her bid on David instead? Or maybe some weird thing happened that was a threat to you, and all I did was try to save you from embarrassment or harm?”

I had finally rattled him. “What?” he asked shortly. “What on earth...?”

“Look,” I began, “it occurs to me I could have handled this differently. I'm way out of my depth here, in Britain where I have never been, around a ton of rich people who I can't possibly relate to despite my recent windfall, and hearing things I had never imagined I would hear people planning. And it also occurs to me now that instead of doing what I did, bidding on you knowing that I would win, I could have just waited until we were up here this evening, and then revealed what I heard to some official, or even to you directly. But in the event, I didn't know what to do. I was scared. I was scared for you, even though I barely know who you are.” 

“Okay, would you please tell me what the hell you are talking about?” Benedict demanded.

So I did. I told him of the conversation I had heard in the ladies' room, the incredulity and fear that I had felt, and my last-minute decision to intervene on his behalf and give up my dream of meeting David Tennant. “Which, as it turned out, I got to do anyway, so I'm happy for that. Because you have been a total ass since the moment I laid eyes on you.” I folded my arms across my chest, in a most un-ladylike fashion, and glared a challenge at him.

“Wait, seriously?” he asked. “That really happened?” I noticed that his stiffness had left his entire body, including his face. “That sounds like some weak television plot. Are you having me on?”

“I am not,” I assured him. “You can ask Melissa if you want. We also told Vivienne and Elaine when you and David were away from the table. I couldn't believe it, either. At first, I thought it was some practical joke or something. But they sounded serious, and scary, and I panicked. You're WELCOME, Benedict,” I added sarcastically.

And then Benedict smiled. It was a real smile this time, and I noticed the beautiful color – no, colors – of his eyes when he did. “Well, I owe you an apology and my gratitude,” he said. “The way they laid it out, they could have possibly gotten away with it without your interference. And I'm glad you solved the problem the way you did. Otherwise I would have been without a date entirely this week. By the way, what do you have planned for our date, anyway?”

“Well,” I said, “I don't know enough about you to know if you would like this. I figured David would, because I know he is very adventurous and daring. But, if you approve, we're going skydiving.”

Benedict's whole face lit up. “Oh, not only do I approve, Jennifer, but I am an certified AFFI skydiving instructor, so we will be able to make our jump in tandem if you like.” His eyes were blazing now, and I could tell he was actually excited to share this with me. I couldn't have possibly known he was an actual skydiving instructor, but I was thrilled. Perhaps I HAD chosen the right man to go on this particular date with.

“Well,” I drawled, now teasing, “you did say there was absolutely no physical aspect to this date, so that might be breaking the rules.” I had no idea what an AFFI certification meant, but apparently it meant he could train me to skydive.

Benedict laughed. “I'm willing to bend the rules if you are.”

“Hmm,” I murmured, “maybe you are not a total ass after all.”


	6. Dancing and Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole gang enjoys a night of dancing and getting to know each other better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm playing fast and loose with real people. I don't know the relationship status of hardly any of the celebrities mentioned, and even if I do know, I'm ignoring it and making them all bachelors for my story's purpose.

The rest of the evening was something straight out of a dream. When we returned to the table, the other ladies immediately caught the difference in Benedict's bearing, and in our vibe with each other. He pulled out my chair like a proper gentleman this time, and when he reached his chair, he remained standing and announced, “I'm sorry I have been such an arse (yes, he said arse!) so far this evening. Please forgive me. There was a complete misunderstanding on my part, and I was being arrogant and assuming things which were not true. Please, let's have a fun evening together.”

Melissa, Vivienne, and Elaine all murmured answers of a forgiving nature, and David beamed his pleasure. “Well,” said David, “I'm glad that's over. I've never seen you act like that or imagined you would.” The wine had arrived, and David held the bottle across to Ben. “Will you pour for us, Ben?” he asked. “The waiter seems to have deserted.” 

“Of course,” answered Benedict, and took on the air of a server as he poured wine for the rest of the table, and then for himself. 

As he poured my wine, I asked him, “So should I call you Ben or Benedict?” 

“Oh, people tend to call me Ben when talking to me, and Benedict when talking about me. But whatever you are comfortable with.”

“Ben it is,” I answered. “That's the name of one of my favorite cousins.” It was, in fact, the name of Sam's brother, the cousin I had been closest to growing up. Melissa knew Ben and his family, so she smiled in understanding when I said this.

“What about you, David?” asked Vivienne, and she pronounced his name Dah-VEED, which sounded incredibly sexy in her beautiful French accent. “Do you have a nickname, or are you David?” 

Apparently David agreed about how his name sounded coming from Vivienne's mouth, because he blushed a little and answered, “You keep saying my name exactly like that, I insist.” Everyone at the table laughed.

From there, the evening became more and more dreamlike. For about another 20 minutes, the six of us chatted at our table. As if we weren't having a great enough time, the waiters then cleared the some of the tables to reveal the dance floor. We were going to dance! I jumped up when the first lines of Love Somebody by Maroon 5 (my favorite band) pulsed out of the hidden speakers. I didn't know who I was going to dance with, but I was going to dance. Benedict jumped up a moment after me, took my arm, and we were one of the first few couples on the dance floor.

I was suddenly aware of my dress, the way I looked, more than I had been all evening. And aware of the skin that was not covered by my dress, as I moved to the rhythm of the song. I knew I looked good, and was filled with confidence. In this room full of people who could have made me feel totally insecure, I felt as good about myself as I ever remember having felt. While I was a pretty good dancer, Ben was amazing! But rather than make me feel awkward, his excellent dancing made me ever more confident in mine, and we moved like we had been dancing together for years. 

The next song, Bonfire Heart, came on and this time we did touch. Ben put one hand on my waist, and held his other hand out for me. He twirled me around in some sort of ballroom dance, but modernized and up-tempo with his stylish moves matching the music perfectly. Though I had no idea how to dance that way, his lead was so strong that I followed easily and decided that I could dance any dance with Ben. I felt slightly giddy, both from the wine and from the surreal experience of dancing like an old friend with one of the most famous men in Great Britain.

When that song was over, another popular fast song came on, and David actually _cut in_. Ben switched and danced with Vivienne, and I found that David was as smooth a dancer as Ben. A great deal skinnier, but I didn't mind that. I was amazed at the night I was having. Surely this couldn't be real. I wanted to pinch myself like people always do in books, but if this had been a dream, I wouldn't appreciate being woken from it. “So, are you having a good time?” David asked knowingly as we moved together on the dance floor like old friends.

“Oh, you have no idea!” I nearly shouted over the music.

“Vivienne told me your whole story, by the way,” he shouted back. “I know what you did for Ben, and it was pretty incredible. And I know that you had intended to bid on me, which is very kind.”

“Well, I know your work a lot more than his, and I love everything you've ever been in, and I just wanted to listen to you talk for a whole day. Bonus if you were actually talking to me! I love your voice.” I was a bit appalled that I had said all this, but really, the night was really only a fantasy, whether actually real or not. So why not say whatever floated its way into my brain and out of my mouth?

David grinned a bit shyly. “Well, thank you very much,” he said. “I never really get used to that, but people are so kind. I'm glad you like my work.” We continued dancing without talking, as it was really difficult, more like shouting back and forth, but obviously I hadn't spooked him, because he continued to smile at me. When the current song morphed into a slow song, David put his arms around my waist, and I reached up to his shoulders, and if I had died sometime in the next few minutes, I would have been perfectly okay with that.

I continued dancing with David for three more songs, and I wondered if Vivienne and David had arranged this. God bless Vivienne, I thought. How very generous of her. As we were dancing, I saw that there were many more couples dancing. I added up in my head – there had been 25 bachelors in the auction, and if half of the women had brought friends to the mixer, there must be over 60 people in the lounge. I glanced around to find Melissa, and she was dancing with a man who I recognized from the auction, but I couldn't remember his name. Elaine was dancing with Ben, and Vivienne was watching us all from our table, sipping wine and smiling a great, big, beautiful, French smile! I felt love in my heart for everybody, though that was quite likely the wine.

Over the next two hours, I danced with Ben more than any other one man, but I also danced with Aidan Turner (who I knew from his show Being Human, which I loved), Andrew Scott (who was friends with Ben from having been on Sherlock with him, and had indeed been “won” by Maeve and Regina, the first people Melissa and I had met that afternoon), Idris Elba (an older man, but still handsome and super smooth on the dance floor), Robert Pattinson (who was HUGE in America due to his work on the Twilight movies), Orlando Bloom (my beloved elf Legolas!), Jonathan Rhys Meyers (who I had never heard of but apparently he played Dracula on some vampire show – and was very handsome and a good dancer), Henry Cavill (who I had also never heard of, but was very handsome and a so-so dancer), and Matt Smith (who was an enthusiastic dancer, and of course who I had heard of, being a huge Doctor Who fan). I almost danced with Daniel Radcliffe, but we ended up chatting at the side of the dance floor right through the song we were going to dance to, and Ben came and claimed me before the next song got going.

Near the end of the evening, the six of us were all back at our table together, drinking some wine and chatting. David and Ben were looking rather pleased with themselves and I wondered what was going on, until Ben gave David an obviously meaningful nod, and David stood up as if to make an announcement. “Well, Ben and I have been doing some recon work this evening, and have discovered that all of you lovely ladies are here in London for another two weeks,” he began. “It just so happens that both of us are completely free for the next week, other than our specific dates with you two (he glanced at me and Vivienne), and we'd like to know if you would like to spend a day or two with us as we showed you around London a bit.”

We looked at each other, with slowly growing grins, and blurted out our various “Yes, absolutely,” and “Oh, we'd love it,” answers all at once. 

Melissa was blushing so brightly, I was worried she would have a stroke. I reached out and grabbed her hand. Leaning forward past Benedict, I whispered in hear ear, “Don't worry, I promise it will be me and Vivienne on dates, you will just be tagging along. Nothing like a date. Nothing to be embarrassed by. I promise.” When I stood back up, I noticed that her alarming shade of red had gone back to a normal blushing pink. I didn't expect to completely stop her blushing, so I felt successful.

After that, we made some general plans for the week. All of the bachelors had been given pre-paid cell phones (excuse me, mobiles) to use specifically for coordinating events following the auction (as they would not want to give out their actual phone numbers to a bunch of fans, understandably), and we donors had been offered the same thing. I chose to use my regular phone number, not being too concerned that Ben would become a stalker or give out my number to a bunch of crazy people. We all got each person's contact information, and David informed us that he and Ben would come up with specific plans for the days we were to spend together as a group, Monday and Thursday, and possibly Friday night at a dance club. 

I had schedule my and Ben's skydiving for Wednesday, and Vivienne and David would have their day-long date that day, as well. I think they would have come skydiving with us if there had been any openings in the schedule. Melissa and Elaine made plans to go shopping and sight-seeing together on Wednesday, so it turned out I didn't have to leave Melissa on her own after all. No matter what she said, I hadn't been looking forward to doing that.

We danced some more, and this time I actually got to dance with Daniel Radcliffe, as well as two celebrities I didn't know, Tom Hardy and Christian Bale. But mostly I danced with David, which Vivienne had confirmed to me that they had planned together, knowing my affinity for him. “I get him all to myself on Wednesday,” she said, “and you were so kind to give him up for Ben's safety, it's the least I could do to give you this evening to enjoy his company.” I hugged her spontaneously, feeling again the love towards everyone in the room that was part wine, part dream, part reality.

In addition to dancing with the different bachelors, I met a lot more of the women who had won the bids. By the end of the evening, which was only three hours after my and Ben's confrontation, it seemed that everybody in the lounge was best friends with everybody else. I remembered that kind of feeling from certain dance clubs and bars that I had gone to when I was younger. It was the liquor and the event that did it. New Year's Eve did the same type of thing to everybody in any one place, and it was an enjoyable way to spend an evening.

When the time came to leave, Ben helped me and Melissa on with our coats, as David did the same for Vivienne and Elaine. The men walked us down to the cars that were waiting to bring us back to our hotels, and we discovered that Vivienne and Elaine were only two blocks from me and Melissa. We decided to go shopping with them the next day, and as the men placed kisses on our cheeks and handed us into our cars, I felt as though I had truly lived through a chimerical evening. 

And it wasn't going to be just this one evening – we were actually going to spend two days all together. Plus we had made new friends, from France. And everything wonderful floated around in the beautiful limousine as Melissa and I rode back to our beautiful hotel, and talked for another few hours about everything that had happened. Our giggles and sighs lasted until it was nearly dawn, and we finally drifted off to sleep and slept until nearly noon. My dreams were of beautiful ladies and handsome gentlemen dancing and laughing, clinking glasses, and speaking softly to one another while dreamy music played in the background.


	7. The Green Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The outing begins with a laugh, and continues more or less cheerfully, with only minor heartbreak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretending the weather is September weather, because I just looked up October weather in London. So even though the story is set in October, pretend it's just a really warm year in London. Because, again, I'm just making shit up to tell my story. :) Hope you enjoy.

By Monday morning, I was wondering whether I had gone completely mad. Actually, I had gone shopping mad on Sunday with Melissa, Vivienne, and Elaine, that's for sure! I had spent over ₤7,000 on clothes and shoes, and nearly that much again on clothes and shoes for Melissa. David had told us to dress comfortably for walking, both inside and outside, so I bought six new pairs of jeans at Girbaud and another smaller French shop, and sixteen tops at Girbaud and Herrod's, and some fancy little denim-look leather sneakers. Melissa tried to refuse my generosity, but I just ignored her, and she didn't really want to be left out. Vivienne and Elaine had also spent obscene amounts of money making sure they had exactly the right outfits – for about 10 days worth of outings! Well, girls need their choices. You never knew what you were going to wake up feeling like wearing, and when you were as disgustingly infused with money as I was, there was really no limit.

But back to Monday morning's worries. Here I was, about to spend the majority of a week with two of the most famous men in Great Britain. Why? Why would they want to spend this time with us? I began jumping to the same conclusion Ben had on Saturday, but turned around this time. What if Ben and David were planning to get a little action from naïve foreign fans? What if they weren't just being kind ambassadors for their city, but were trying to take advantage of our obvious appreciation for them (well, for David mainly) by dazzling us with their fame all over London, only to take advantage of us?

I shared my worries with Melissa while we were both still in bed. Our beds were actually in different rooms, but the door was open between us, so we could easily talk back and forth. “I don't know, Jen, that doesn't make much sense. If they're as famous as you say (she didn't really keep up on British celebrities, being busy with an actual life), they probably don't have to search very hard for women.”

“That's true. And Benedict was so offended when he thought that's what I was after.”

“Exactly. And they seem so genuinely nice. But that could just be because they're British. Like everyone always thinks Minnesotans are 'Minnesota Nice'”.

“But we _are_ Minnesota nice,” I whined.

“And they are probably British nice. Which doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?”

I giggled. “Not exactly.”

“Well, we are going to be out in broad daylight and in public, so it's not like they can pull anything on us. Plus, we outnumber them two to one,” Melissa reassured me. “Why are you so worried, anyway? You're always the wild spontaneous one. Since when do you get scared of people?”

“I don't know. Maybe I'm still freaked out by those crazy women at the auction. Just thinking there could be people plotting like that, like storybook villains...it creeps me out. And they looked perfectly normal, assuming they were the ones I think they were. Anybody could be anything awful, and you'd never know until it was too late.”

“Okay, so I get it now. You've been watching too much Criminal Minds or Supernatural or something.”

I laughed out loud at this. “Well, maybe. But it was creepy, wasn't it?”

“It was really creepy. But Ben and David are not at all creepy. Neither are Vivienne or Elaine.”

“No,” I reflected, “those two are really awesome. Do you think we'll stay friends after we leave here?”

“Elaine and I have already exchanged all our information. We're definitely staying friends. I haven't talked as much with Vivienne, but if you want another vacation with them sometime, just let me know. I'll be available.” I was surprised that Melissa and Elaine had bonded so quickly, yet it made sense. They were both playing the same role with me and Vivienne, and their personalities were quite similar. They were both shy and quiet, at least out in public. They were both loyal friends who supported their more outrageous best friends. And they were both somewhat adventurous despite their quieter natures. Of course they had become fast friends.

“Well, anyway, we had better get up and get ready. It's already 8:30 and we're meeting everyone downstairs in just an hour-and-a-half,” I sighed, shoving the bed covers off and heading towards the shower.

** ** ** **

The only way to experience London, I have decided, is at the side of a true Londoner. David was born and raised in Scotland, but he had been in London long enough to count, and Benedict was born and raised in the city. And far from being any kind of creepy, they were the most gracious hosts we could possibly have hoped for that Monday.

The morning started out with a great laugh. When we met everyone downstairs, we all cracked up laughing. Somehow, we had all dressed basically the same – with a sweater (jumper?) over a button-up shirt. Nobody had on the exact same thing, but all six of us had that basic outfit. Even more hilarious, we were color-coordinated. Ben and I both wore blue, David and Vivienne both wore brown, and Elaine and Melissa both wore green.

“We look like a fucking nursery outing!” Ben wheezed in the midst of his belly laugh. I was surprised by his profanity, but had to agree with him.

“Not only that, but we're all paired up,” David pointed out. This kind of broke my heart a little, and I wished I had worn brown. And Vivienne had worn blue. And I realized that despite what I told myself, I _had_ been hoping that somehow David would meet me and fall in love with me and my whole life would change for the better. Obviously I had watched way too many Disney movies growing up. Damn. 

I already had about 50 pictures of us in different groupings and pairings from Saturday evening, but now I whipped out the camera phone again, and had a hotel porter take some more pictures of us all together and in pairs. I ignored our color choices, and made sure I had my picture taken with David at least 5 or 6 times.

Our first outing was a Thames River Boat Cruise, which was a bit chilly, but worth any discomfort. For 3 hours, we cruised up and back down the Thames, getting a look at almost all the famous landmarks of London – Westminster Abbey, the Millennium Bridge, St Paul's Cathedral, the Globe Theatre, and Canary Wharf, to name just a few. 

We stuck together as a group, but it was obvious that the fateful color pairings were in effect. Of course Elaine and Melissa spent all their time together, talking and giggling with each other. Neither were as comfortable being out with the guys as Vivienne and I were. But David seemed to make a point to stay by Vivienne's side, as Benedict did with me. 

We all talked together, and each time either David or Benedict pointed something out, they spoke to the entire group, so it wasn't that David ignored me or anything. But in between sights, he naturally turned to chat with Vivienne, and Ben chatted with me. At some point, Ben must have noticed my distraction, and he dealt with me very kindly. He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “If it makes you feel any better, she has absolutely no chance at dating him,” he said.

I tried to look surprised – what on earth are you talking about? I tried to portray this question. I was pretty sure that was useless, and Ben answered my _actual_ unasked question – how do you know? “The thing is, David is seeing somebody pretty seriously. He was going to skip out on the charity auction, but she convinced him not to, as he had committed to it before they really got serious. She knows we're taking you ladies out this week, as well, but she's not the jealous type, and David is NOT the running-around type.”

I was a little disgusted at the combination of relief and despair I felt. How had I let myself build up any hopes regarding this out-of-my-league man? And why would I begrudge Vivienne anything? I reminded myself that I had come to London only expecting to spend a little time with David Tennant and get to know him a bit, and listen to his voice for a day. I ended up getting to do that, even though I had given it up. I couldn't be any luckier. And yet, I was a little disappointed. And I had a feeling Ben knew that, as well.

“Well,” I answered, hoping he couldn't read _everything_ on my face, “it's kind of about time. He's getting up there. Can you tell me who it is?”

Ben laughed. “Yeah, we're getting old all right. Her name is Georgia, and she's an actress, and daughter of one of the men who played the Doctor in the 80's. She was on a Doctor Who episode with him.”

“Oh, which one?” I asked.

“She plays his daughter, actually.”

I laughed, knowing immediately which episode he was talking about. “Well, that's ironic.”

Though my heart was still a little broken, for some rotten reason, it was less so knowing that it wasn't Vivienne who was going to be dating David. I was distressed for feeling this way, and spent the rest of the day being really nice and chummy with Vivienne. I imagined (maybe) that Ben looked at me knowingly the entire day. Was I paranoid, or just really that see-through?


	8. Dream...And Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang has a wonderful day out...but Jennifer and Melissa's day does NOT end pleasantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I got a comment elsewhere that it is creepy to write this kind of fan fic. I thought about it, and I decided maybe it is kind of creepy. I mean, here I'm writing this story about a real person, who is actually out there living life, with no idea I exist (and I'm totally ok with that) and I'm writing this story, taking his life and making what I want with it. BUT you readers, you understand this is basically like a daydream I am writing down, more or less, right? Please leave comments if you think this isn't totally a creepy thing to do. I think any future fan fics I write will be about characters instead of real people, but I'm not just going to leave this story hanging. I will write it to its conclusion (and it does have an actual conclusion, it's not just the never-ending lives of...) and if anybody has anything to say about this topic, please leave a note and let me know what you think - even if you think it is creepy, tell me, k?

After the cruise, we went out to eat at a pleasant little restaurant called The Royal Quarter Cafe. Since I was in London, I figured I had to try a meat pie, and it turned out to be delicious. I had pictured meat pies as being like an American pot pie, but it was much more substantial and _way_ tastier. We all had meat pies and chips, which were actually like giant french fries (and also tastier than American fries), and Ben ordered wine for us. He was really into wine; I could tell from the way he had ordered on Saturday, and the way he ordered it now.

“So how did you get to be so knowledgeable about wine?” I asked him.

“Oh, I grew up that way. My parents taught me everything about wine – which wine goes with what food, in what situation. I was kind of upper class, I guess.”

I laughed, and answered his quizzical look. “Yeah, it kind of shows.”

“Really? I don't know. I think I'm pretty normal.”

David laughed at that right along with me. “No, mate, it's not like you have a stick up your ass, but you definitely come across as a bit posh, even though your mouth is like a toilet.” So he had noticed that Ben swore a lot, too, I noted.

We were all laughing at this point, but upon looking carefully at Ben, I realized he was a bit embarrassed. “I don't know,” I said, “anybody who can dance like you has got to be pretty cool. It's not like you're Jeeves or something.” This time when everyone laughed, Ben joined in fully, and looked possibly a little gratefully at me. I couldn't help but notice how beautiful his eyes were when he was laughing. They were many different colors all at once, it seemed.

** ** ** **

After lunch, we went to see Buckingham Palace, which was only a couple of blocks away. “Is there any chance we'll see the changing of the guard?” Vivienne asked.

“No, sorry, love,” David answered, “they do that around 11 in the morning. It is really fun to watch, though, you should definitely try to see it while you're here.”

The tour was beautiful. For about 2 hours, we wandered rooms that were incredibly elegant and lavish and filled with beautiful things. I remembered a scene in one of the Sherlock episodes, and asked Ben if he had actually been in the Palace to shoot the scene. “No, we did that at a place called Goldsmiths' Hall. But there is a room here that looks a bit like the set, I'll show you when we get there.” It turned out he didn't need to, because I recognized it before he said anything when we walked into the room.

After the tour, the guys had a car pick us up and take is to the London Eye. David practically jumped up and down as he told us that they had booked us in a private capsule for two 30-minute rotations, with chocolate and wine tasting. “Oh, by the time we're done, it'll be dark and the Eye will be all lit up, and all of London will be as well.”

I actually did jump up and down, and hugged David and then Ben. “Ooh, this is one of my life's goals!” I squealed. “To ride on the London Eye, in light and in dark. Ooh, thank you so much! Wait, don't you have to sign up way in advance to get tickets, or at least a private capsule?”

David blushed. “Well, thing is, there _are_ some benefits to being David Tennant, and every once in awhile, I take advantage of them.” His face was so red and his freckles were practically jumping out at us. How cute, I thought, he's embarrassed to take advantage of his fame. But he was awesome enough to do it anyway, to give us this great thrill.

During the ride, we ended up again separating into three color-coded pairs. There were small tables with only two chairs at each one, and on each table was a huge selection of tiny chocolates. There was a small bar on one side of the capsule, where a number of wine bottles stood, and a waiter who served us specific wines to go with specific chocolates. It was so classy, I felt like even more of a foreigner than I actually was. But we were all dressed so casual that I felt comfortable anyway.

“So, are you enjoying London so far?” Ben asked as we sat together testing chocolate and wine.

“It's unbelievable. I think having you guys show us around has made it even more exciting than it would have been otherwise,” I admitted.

Ben smiled that sparkly smile he had. “I'm glad. I feel like such an arse for having been, well, such an arse to you at first.”

“Yeah, but you had good reason to be suspicious, I suppose.”

“David tried to tell me there was nothing to it, but I've never done one of these auction things, and I was already feeling nervous. Feeling purchased. I might have acted that way with anybody, really.”

“Really?” I asked. “It just seems, well, I don't know as much about you as a 'famous guy' as I do David, but from what I've seen, you always seem kind and generous to your fans.”

“True, and I am, and I'm grateful for my fans. But this whole being uber-famous is so new. It happened so quickly. I'm not really as comfortable with it as I might seem. It sometimes really bothers me. And although I realize that my fans are mostly women, so I need to be all positive about them, I really worry about some of them. They just throw themselves at me. I could seriously sleep with a new woman every night if I wanted to.”

“Well, I don't really know what to say to that,” I replied. “Umm, just in case you had any thoughts...”

“No, no,” he assured me, “I don't think you're like that. No matter how rude I was to you, I wouldn't have been spending the day with you now if I had thought you were going to be all over me. I honestly don't even think you'd be like that with David given the chance. Although I can tell you really _are_ a great fan of his.”

I suddenly felt like I should apologize for not being a bigger fan of Ben's. “I'm sure I'd be a great fan of yours, if I had seen more of your work,” I said lamely.

Ben laughed. “Oh, God, no, I'm sorry. I really wasn't fishing for compliments. I like that you're not a huge fan. It gets really difficult to trust anybody when all this is happening to me.”

“Oh, I actually know what you mean,” I gushed. “When I won the lottery, suddenly everybody I knew was just sure they were my best friend. And every guy I had ever dated, seriously back to high school, suddenly thought that we should hook back up. And they seriously thought I didn't get what was going on. What did they think they were going to get out of me? It was ridiculous, but it was kind of scary, too.”

“I get that. Like hearing what those ladies were talking about in the bathroom. I doubt they would have really been able to do it, but just that people are plotting things for me. I'm just...just a bloke, you know? I do my job like anybody else. It's probably harder work than what most people do. It comes with its benefits, I suppose. Like this particular ride. But being famous doesn't really make me a different person. Though I wonder what a prat I'd have been if this had happened when I was younger, like a teenager. I could have ended up like Bieber.”

I laughed at this, and Ben did, too. We fell into silence, watching the city as we revolved around it. “Let's get a better look,” he suggested, and we walked together to the very edge of the capsule. 

“Whoa,” I breathed. We were standing at the edge of the glass capsule, and it was as if we were out in open air, flying through the city. I was overwhelmed with the beauty, and with my incredible luck at being there, and my eyes filled with tears. 

“Hey,” Ben said, concerned. Which of course made the tears that had been gathering in my eyes spill out. Just two, but still.

I turned away from him, embarrassed. He put his hand on my shoulder, and turned me gently back, looking at me curiously. “It's just, I grew up very...not poor, exactly, but a visit to the most wonderful city on earth was never on my agenda. Things have changed so much for me in the past year, and a lot of it not for the better, but being here, seeing this...it's like a fantasy I've always had has come true.”

Ben looked into my eyes (and I swear, I did _not_ swoon at the beauty of his eyes, not then) and smiled gently. “Well I for one am very glad you won that lottery, or you wouldn't be here with me now.” I didn't know what to say to that – was he flirting? Or just being British and kind? I decided to keep my mouth shut, and turned to look back out on the beautiful, sparkling city. I was feeling pretty glad I had won that lottery as well.

** ** ** **

After the car dropped us off at our hotel, and the others had said good bye to us in the lobby, I noticed that Melissa looked as pleased as I felt. I realized I hadn't paid much attention to her all day. She didn't seem to be bothered by that, though. I wondered if she felt like me, in love with London and travel and the benefits of having enough money to do whatever we wanted. We didn't talk on the way to our room, but we smiled at each other rather dreamily a couple of times.

When we got to our floor, our smiles faded. Something smelled absolutely horrible. As we turned the corner to the short hall that housed our door, we saw what it was. I didn't realize exactly what it was at first. It looked like mud was smeared all over our door. But the smell, and a closer look, showed us that it was actually shit! Somebody had thrown a big wad of shit at our hotel door. What the hell was that all about? Who would do such a thing?


	9. Dealt With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benedict deals with Jennifer & Melissa's problem...and Jennifer is not all that appreciative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder...again...I learned as much as I could about London on the internet to write this, but some things I either couldn't learn or just made up because they were convenient for me. So if you are familiar with London, and anything sounds off, just consider this the London a few realities over from this one - one where, you know, stuff is just like this. Thanks, and thanks for reading!!

The knock on the door startled both me and Melissa, although we had been expecting it all morning. “Security,” Melissa murmured as I unfolded myself from the comfortable chair in the sitting room to answer the door.

“Umm, it's not security,” I told her as I opened the door, after looking through the peep hole.

Ben strode in and took my hands in his, searching my face for who knew what. “Are you okay?” he asked forcefully. He turned to Melissa. “Melissa, are you okay? Please tell me neither of you has been harmed.”

I grabbed my hands away from him. “Yes, of course we're fine. What are you doing here? How do you even know what room number we're in?” After the scare from last night, I was not reacting well to this surprise invasion of our space by a virtual stranger.

Ben's shock and hurt showed clearly on his face. “Well, when David told me what happened – “

“David Tennant? How did he know what happened?” I interrupted.

“Well,” said Melissa sheepishly from the sofa, “he probably knew because I texted Elaine about it last night.”

“That doesn't seem a straight line to David Tennant,” I argued. “What, are we all text buddies now that we've spent one evening and one day together? Suddenly we're sharing every little detail of our lives? What the hell?”

“Jennifer,” Benedict said, “please calm down. I don't understand why you're angry. I don't know exactly how David found out about your little surprise, but I do know why he contacted me.”

“And that would be _why_?” I asked sarcastically. I realized even as I was speaking that I was being kind of a bitch to a man who had, mostly, only been kind to me.

“Because he knew I would feel responsible,” Ben answered, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why on _earth_ would you feel responsible for an act of vandalism in _our_ hotel?”

“Well, obviously whoever did this is the same woman or group of women who was trying to hurt me, from the auction.”

I sat down abruptly on the chair I had been curled up in minutes before. “I...I never even thought of that,” I admitted.

“Really?” Melissa asked. “That was the first thing I thought of, and Elaine and I decided it must be.”

“Any reason you didn't mention that to me?” I asked.

“You were so upset with the hotel and security. You weren't really in a listening mood,” Melissa reminded me.

“Look,” Benedict said, “you may need a few minutes to process this, but in the meantime, pack up your things.”

“And why would I do that?”

“The security here is appalling. Not only did this happen with no one noticing until you came in last night, but there was nothing definite on any of the hotel's security cameras as to who did it. I've dealt with the hotel and you are getting a full refund of ALL charges since you checked in the other day. I've booked you into the Dorchester, where your security will be well looked after. The rooms are more spacious and I'm sure you'll be happy with the accommodations. In the meantime, I've filed a police report, and I have a feeling the authorities are looking at the CCTV footage from last night in this area as we speak. I made it clear that I was unhappy with the way my guests had been treated in London.”

I gaped at Ben. “You _what_?” I fumed. “I'm sorry, but last I checked, I was 31 years old, and quite capable of managing my own affairs, thank you very much.”

Ben looked confused in the face of my anger. “But I'm trying to help you,” he said.

“We are not _your_ guests, Benedict Cumberbatch. Is that clear enough for you? We came to London on our own. You've been very kind. But we are _not_ your responsibility. I think you have a great nerve just coming in and taking over like this. Is this – are you naturally this arrogant or has fame gone to your head? What the hell?” I was pretty impressed with myself for not stuttering and stumbling for words as I usually did when I was furious.

I saw Ben's body slowly grow stiff, and he reminded me of the Ben I had seen on our first acquaintance. “I do apologize for taking too much on myself,” he said stiffly. “I meant only to be a proper ambassador for my city and country. I certainly didn't mean to offend you in any way. I'll leave you to it, then.” He began to walk out.

“Wait a minute,” Melissa said. “Don't leave.” She turned on me. “Jennifer, what is wrong with you? Since when are you so rude? Talk about being arrogant. Here we are in a strange city, and one of the few people we actually know is doing his best to help us out of a potentially dangerous situation. What problem can you possibly have with that?”

I could feel my face flush at this. I wasn't used to being told off by Melissa, but she kind of had a point. Why was I so defensive towards Ben? Hadn't I been angry all night and morning about how little the hotel staff seemed to care about our distress? Hadn't thoughts of how awful I found Londoners to be towards guests been crossing my mind for a good twelve hours? And here a Londoner, and barely an acquaintance of ours, had stepped in to help us out when nobody else had. And I was being a total bitch to him.

“Oh,” I said. Eloquent.

Ben had stopped walking out, and he now watched me, looking slightly amused. “What?” I snapped.

“I think I'm not the only control freak in this room, that's what,” he answered, grinning.

“Humph,” I answered, the picture of maturity. Ben laughed. “Well, I really am used to being in control of everything,” I said in my defense. “Especially this past year. I think perhaps last night threw me for a loop. Everything's been going so well, and to have our space _defiled_ like that... It was so disgustingly personal. And now, now to think maybe it really _was_ personal. Euw. I'm just...okay, I'm sorry I snapped at you.”

“Apology accepted,” Ben said, with overacted dignity. “Now, if you two wouldn't mind, really, pack your things. Would you like help?”

I bristled a bit again. With all the new clothes I had bought in the last few days, including a large selection of lingerie, I most certainly did _not_ want his help. Maybe if it had been David...I stopped my thought right there. Was I mad at Ben because he had come to help us instead of David? Hmm, something to think about. Somehow I didn't picture myself ever blowing up at David Tennant for any reason.


	10. Friends With Ben

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer and Ben get a few things straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I researched the Dorchester, but only online, so undoubtedly my descriptions are not perfect. If you've been there, remember, I'm a few worlds down from us, and things are, in my world, exactly as I describe them.

It was embarrassing how much we had to pack. Luckily, we had kept our shopping bags, because the luggage we had brought would not hold everything we had purchased over the past few days. Ben laughed when he came back in the room and saw all of our bags. “Well, you've been making good use of your time in London,” he said appreciatively.

The Dorchester was the most impressive place I'd seen since arriving in London. Well, maybe not as impressive as the top of the Gherkin. It was a close call. The hotel was located right at the edge of the beautiful Hyde Park, and when we got to our suite, it overlooked the park, Kensington Gardens, and a lovely slice of London. Many of the shops we had bags from were only a few steps away. The suite itself had to be their very best. There were three separate bedrooms, each with its own bathroom, and two sitting rooms. “This suite is bigger than the house I grew up in,” I told Ben in amazement.

“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “I mean, is it really, or is that just your way of saying it's big?”

I looked around, measuring up. “Yep, pretty sure it's bigger. We only had one living room. Well, but we had a kitchen, so maybe...” I trailed off, not knowing if he was teasing me, genuinely curious, or just making polite conversation. I didn't really care to bore him.

But he kept asking questions about the house I had grown up in, and pretty soon we were sitting on two of the beautiful, antique-looking (and possibly actual antique) chairs in one of the sitting rooms, with me telling him all about the home I had grown up in in Burnsville, Minnesota. The big back yard, the neighborhood full of kids to play with, the Irish setters we had had as pets (turns out Ben had also had Irish setters growing up), and the public schools where we had learned our community identity.

“I must be boring you to death with all this,” I said, after coming out of a dreamy reverie.

“Not at all. I grew up so differently. I would have thought that how I grew up was technically 'better', but it seems that your life was just about perfect.”

“Well, that's the glow of nostalgia coming through,” I assured him. “There were problems. My parents drank a bit too much, the neighborhood kids were always splitting into factions and being mean to each other, and we occasionally had our power turned off due to not paying the bill. Although, as a kid, we just thought it was a special thing to use candles once in awhile.”

“See what I mean? Perfect. Even the imperfect things made what you had that much better.”

“Yeah, well, it was all right. I would ask you what it was like growing up rich in London, but I imagine you actually have things to do today.” I was sort of hoping Ben would get up and leave then. I didn't want to be some little play thing for the big, famous actor Benedict Cumberbatch. I didn't want to start actually liking him, wanting a friendship that he couldn't actually, and almost certainly didn't want to, offer. I was aware that I had become an amusing distraction to him during my stay in London, but when I started talking about childhoods with people, it was generally a sign we were really becoming friends. Since that couldn't possibly be the case with Ben, I preferred he leave sooner than later.

“Actually, I do have plans, but not until half six tonight,” he answered, looking like a man who was not headed anywhere fast. “But what about you? What had you planned to do today?”

I thought about that. “We planned to get together with Vivienne and Elaine and do...something. I don't think we really had a plan. And I don't know if anything's changed. Hold on a minute.”

I got up and searched for Melissa, who was sprawled across her new bed texting somebody. “Hey, what exactly are we doing today?” I asked her. 

She looked up, giggling. “Oh, well, now that we've moved here, Elaine thinks we should spend the day in the park. We could see the Princess Di Memorial and rent a little boat, and go to the gallery at Kensington Gardens. She looked it up on the internet. We could just hang out and watch people and be in London.” Melissa was blushing for some reason, but as I couldn't imagine why, I ignored it.

“Okay, when are we leaving?” I asked. 

“They'll be on their way over soon. We'll probably leave around noon. We can have lunch somewhere in the park.”

“Sounds great,” I said, and returned to Ben. 

I told him what are plans were, and he said, “Great. I'd love to join you.”

His smile was so big, and I felt like a bit of a bitch, but things were getting kind of ridiculous. “Um, that's nice and all, but I don't recall inviting you.”

He laughed. “True, I did, I just invited myself. How _could_ I be so rude? So, may I join you?”

I was silent for nearly a whole minute. What did I say? How could I put my misgivings in a way that didn't make me sound...pathetic? “Well, we're going to spend the whole day together tomorrow, and we have plans for the day on Thursday, and Friday night. Isn't this a bit much?”

“Hmm, spending every day this week with the most interesting, beautiful woman I've met in a good long time. Nope, I would have to say that is not a bit much.”

My old habits were back. “I...what? I don't – if you – what?”

“Your eloquence knows no bounds,” Ben said, smiling.

“But you...look, I'm only here for two weeks. You're not going to get me into bed, I guarantee it. And when I leave, you're going to go on with your famous happy life and never think of me again. So what exactly is the point?”

Ben looked thoughtful. “Well, I'm not sure I agree with everything you said. No, no, not about getting you in bed. I'm not trying to get you in bed. Here's the thing. You said it was hard for you to meet men who you could trust, since winning the lottery. Can you imagine how difficult it is for _me_ to meet women? Almost everyone I've met since this fame thing has been in the business. I keep my friends from before very close. That's who I'm hanging out with tonight. But new friends...they just don't really come along anymore. Not regular people, anyway. And I like you. And the rest of them, Melissa, Vivienne, Elaine. But specifically you.”

“Why would you like me? I've been the furthest thing from a fan you could have. I've spent my time with you generally falling all over the _other_ guy, wishing I was with him. And whenever we get the chance to interact, I'm just pretty rude to you. I don't get it.”

Ben laughed, deeply. “I think that's probably the main attraction. I can find women who fall all over me by walking out of the door to this hotel and taking off my shades.”

“You know, you are a bit arrogant, Ben, no matter what you say.”

“Maybe. But the point is, the very fact that you hardly find me interesting at all makes you that much more interesting to me.”

“I sense a retelling of Blue Beard's Wife in the near future,” I replied sarcastically.

“Perhaps. But I'm not trying to _have_ you, in the way men usually mean. I'm saying, Jennifer, I would like to be friends with you. During your time in London. _After_ your time in London. I spend more and more time in America these days, and would love to visit with you there.”

I had been standing, but at this request, I sat back down. “Really?” I asked.

“Yes, really. What do you think? You can stop snapping at me and be my friend. You can stop worrying I'm trying to seduce you or take advantage of you. We can have a great time together. I'm a fun guy. You can slap me if I try to kiss you. I might, you know. You are very pretty. What do you say?”

“Well, yes to friends. No to kissing. Yes to slapping you. But if I'm all nice to you, you might not like me any more.”

“I'm willing to take that chance,” Ben answered with a huge grin. “Now, go get dressed for a day in the park.”


	11. Hyde Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang (minus David) has an interesting day in the park. Melissa and Elaine are getting particularly interesting!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never been to the Dorchester, or Hyde Park (or England, for that matter) so please excuse any inconsistencies with the real London. And I hope you like my little sub-plot. It popped up without my expecting it!

Our visit to Hyde Park began with lunch at a restaurant close to our hotel. Vivienne, Ben, and I talked a lot, while Melissa and Elaine seemed quietly contemplative...of something. But that was just their nature. We three were always going to be the loud ones in our group. I noticed that Ben was looking around a lot, as though he was searching for something, and finally I asked him about it.

“Well, you seem to have crazy stalkers, so I'm just checking out the crowd,” he said. “I've actually dealt with crazy stalkers before. I keep my eyes open.” He bugged his eyes out, and we all laughed.

“I believe you are sitting with four of your stalkers right now,” Vivienne said coyly.

Ben smiled. “Ah, Vivienne, if only that were true. I believe you are my only true fan out of the four of you.” He put his lower lip out in a pout, and looked rather adorable. I didn't find him to be this amazing ethereal beauty as so many people seemed to, but he could look cute when he wanted to.

We began our stroll through the park on a foot path, and I noticed a nearby riding path with occasional horseback riders passing. “Can we go horseback riding?” I asked nobody in particular.

“Oh, yes, let's,” answered Elaine, sounding excited. “I love riding. Where does one find the horses?”

“We're actually headed toward the stables now,” said Ben. “I shall lead the way.” He strode ahead like a trail guide, and we followed along. Vivienne and I were giggling at Ben, and Elaine and Melissa were giggling at me and Vivienne. Basically, we were like a bunch of middle school girls following the captain of the football team. It was kind of fun, now that I was (mostly) over my fears of Ben's motives and intentions.

Luckily, the stables had five horses available, and we spent a little time getting to know our mounts before heading off on the trails. As it turned out, all five of us knew how to ride English style, so we didn't need a trail guide; we were able to take the horses out on our own. Ben insisted on paying for all of us, which I bristled at slightly. I was used to paying for everything now that I had ridiculous amounts of money, but I told myself that with all the work Ben did, he probably had a good cash flow himself. 

I ended up with the most spirited horse, who had to be out front during the whole ride. Ben attempted to ride beside me, but my horse was not having it, so he and Vivienne rode directly behind me, and Melissa and Elaine behind them. I spent the ride enthralled with the beauty of the park – right in the middle of the city – and listened to Ben and Vivienne chatter on about London, France, and their respective experiences riding. I chipped in a little, but mostly I was content to listen and look and enjoy the beautiful animal beneath me.

After we returned to the stables, we took off walking again and eventually visited the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain. It was beautiful, and I remembered the day as a child when I had woken up to hear of the lovely princess' death. Ben told of his experience, which was much sadder than any of ours. His parents had spent the day sobbing at intervals, and the entire nation was in mourning for weeks. It sounded like what my country had gone through when President Kennedy or Martin Luther King, Jr, had been shot.

That led me to wonder what it was like in England when other historical events had happened in America. I had lived through a few, so I asked Ben how it affected his country when 9/11 happened, and when the first black American president had been elected. He shared his thoughts and views, and the attitudes of his country, on these events. 

Then he asked about how some of the events from Great Britain had affected us Americans, and the French. I felt so stupid, because I knew about the tube bombings, and had heard about them, but it hadn't really affected me in any way whatsoever. While Britain mourned with us after 9/11, we had not done the same thing as a nation for them in their time of disaster. Vivienne and Elaine spoke much more feelingly, as the French had taken it much harder than we Americans had. 

I felt disapproval from Ben, but he didn't say anything. I decided that I would learn more about the country I was visiting – not just its ancient history, but its current place in the world, and current events that shaped the world from Great Britain's point of view. I was such a typical American, and I was kind of disgusted with myself for it. Melissa was quiet about these events, but I could see a little 'I want' line form in her brow, and realized she was making a similar decision for herself.

As we chatted, we were walking and following Ben's lead. We walked past an area that looked good for a swim in warmer weather, and past part of the horse trail we had not been on, which Ben identified as the Rotten Row. It had something to do with war and France in the 17th century. I vaguely listened to what Ben said, and hoped he didn't quiz us later on the details. Finally, we seemed to end up where he had been heading – a boat launch with boats for rent.

“I'm going to row you about the Serpentine,” he announced, “how is that for romantic?”

“Well, it would be more romantic if there were either four of you or one of us,” Vivienne said, flirting. I had noticed during the day that she was very flirty. I assured myself I wasn't bothered by this. It was probably just a French thing. And if she was flirting with Ben? Well, what did I care anyway. I had agreed to be friends with him, not to fall in love with him. So of course it was fine with me.

That being true, I was still somehow glad when Vivienne's comment caused Ben to glance at me and smile. “True,” he said, looking directly at me, “but this will have to do. I will be the handsome hero for all of you.”

“You certainly are that,” murmured Vivienne, and I wondered if she had a bit of a crush on Ben. He had actually been her second choice at the celebrity auction, so maybe she really did. I was a bit amused. I had a mad crush on her celebrity date, and she had one on mine. Ironic. The only really sad thing was, the man I was so interested in was already involved in a serious relationship. Ben was entirely single, and for all I knew, he and Vivienne could actually end up together. He had indicated earlier that he was interested in meeting women outside of show business. 

I nudged her and giggled at what she had said, and Ben proceeded to secure a launch for us. He actually did intend to row for all of us, but I insisted on helping. There were two sets of paddles, after all, and I felt kind of stupid just sitting on the bench like some royal princess. “I promise to let you be the manly man,” I assured Ben, “but seriously, to just sit on my ass while there are oars to be rowed? Not gonna happen.”

So I sat at one end of the boat and Ben at the other, with the other three on the two benches between us. Vivienne sat closest to Ben, facing him, and Melissa and Elaine sat on the bench nearest me, facing me. Ben and I rowed in perfect coordination, which surprised me. Usually when I rowed a boat with somebody new, we were at odds until we got a rhythm down. “We were made to row together,” Ben said as he noticed how well we were doing.

Once we got to the middle of the lake/stream, we stopped rowing, and just sat to take in the scenery a bit. It was then that I noticed something odd. Melissa and Elaine had been talking quietly for the whole boat trip – hell, for the whole day. And although the boat was not huge, they were sitting very close together on their bench. I began to notice the way they looked right into each other's eyes as they were talking. Quietly. If Melissa didn't have a boyfriend at home, I would have wondered if there wasn't more going on than a new friendship here. 

Actually, regardless of the boyfriend at home, I was beginning to wonder if there weren't things about Melissa that, despite our 20 years as best friends, I did not yet know. Maybe some things she didn't know, or was only now discovering. I decided we would have a chat that night. I couldn't let something new and exciting happen to my dearest friend without being in on it.

We rowed about, up and down the stream, for about an hour before heading back to the boat launch. The light was beginning to fade from the sky, just a bit, and I checked my phone to see what time it was. I was surprised to see that it was only 5:00. It felt like we had been out in the park for 10 hours or so.

“All right, now to the Serpentine Bar & Kitchen for some dinner,” announced Ben as he came back from returning the boat at the slip. 

“Sounds wonderful,” gushed Vivienne, taking Ben's arm. He smiled at her, then held his other arm out for me. 

As I took it, I noticed that Elaine held her arm out, and that Melissa took it as I had Ben's. Oh, yeah, we needed to talk.

“Well, aren't you the stud with women on both arms?” teased Vivienne. 

“Oh, sure,” Ben agreed, “too bad there's nobody around taking pictures. My credibility as a ladies' man would go way up with you two beauties on my arms.” He smiled down at me. 

I laughed. “I don't think you lack any credibility in that department,” I assured him. 

He paused in his walking. “What does that mean? Am I known as a ladies' man?”

I laughed harder. “I don't know if that's the exact term, and I really truly don't know much about you or what is said about you, but I do know that women LOVE you, so probably, yeah. Especially since you're single. And people probably do take pictures of you all the time. Don't you know how people view you?”

“I try to stay away from stuff like that. It was bad enough getting that 'Sexiest Man Alive' thing, which I couldn't totally ignore. What people were thinking to give that to me, I'll never know. But I hope I don't give off the impression, I mean, of somebody who treats women poorly. That's what I mean.”

“I assure you,” Vivienne chipped in, “you are not seen that way. Women see you as desirable, as respectful, as chivalrous, as humble, as gallant, as the perfect gentleman. They dream of walking with you as we are now, and imagine that you are always kind, always generous, always perfect.”

Ben guffawed. “Well, that just tells you how fucking much they _don't_ know about me!” he said. “Not that I'm a terribly rude person, but damn, you know, I played a character once called Christopher Tietjens and I think that women may have the real me confused with him. That _does_ pretty much describe him. But I'm _not_ that, believe me.”

“That is very hard to believe,” Vivienne assured him.

“I believe you,” I said, and nudged him. I was teasing, but I did believe him. I had, after all, seen him act like a total ass hat, and a controlling jerk, and I had seen him being pretty arrogant, too. I knew that women sometimes put their celebrity crushes up on a pedestal (I certainly couldn't imagine David Tennant farting, for example), but as Ben was never my celebrity crush, I just saw him as a regular guy. Therefore, I think I had a better read on his character than Vivienne. Either that, or Viv was just flirting shamelessly with him, as she tended to do.

After we had eaten, and were sitting at the bar having a couple of drinks, Ben pulled me aside. “Jennifer, I have to leave in a few minutes to go out with my mates. I was wondering if you would like to come with me.”

“That's nice, Ben, but no, I'm with the girls tonight.”

“But I thought we were friends now,” he argued, looking a little put out at my refusal. He got this little squinchy wrinkle at the top of his nose, almost between his eyebrows, which seemed to signal displeasure.

I smiled. “You are really not used to hearing 'no,' are you?” 

Ben grinned sheepishly. “Actually, I'm not. People rarely say no to me. Are you really saying no, or just forcing me to be more demanding?”

I didn't really know what to think of that, but I assured him, “I'm really saying no, Ben. But don't forget...”

“Yes, the car will pick me up first, and we will pick you up at 7:30 am. Wear comfortable, warm clothing and be ready for the most absolutely thrilling day you have ever had.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

“Wait, do I get to slap you now?” I asked, teasing.

“Only when I come at you with tongue,” Ben retorted, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair he had been sitting on. He said goodbye to the rest of the ladies, and headed out to his night with his friends.

When I came back to sit between Vivienne and Melissa, I noticed that Melissa's hand was wrapped around Elaine's as they were once again talking quietly between themselves. I looked at their hands, and then meaningfully at Vivienne, who grinned hugely and nodded. We both started giggling so hard, we nearly fell off our stools. This was turning into a more fascinating vacation than I ever could have imagined!


	12. Near-Death Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for sky diving - and all the surprises it brings for Jennifer and Ben!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never been skydiving (though it is my life's goal) (and with Benedict would make it that much better) so if I've got anything wrong, it's because I'm making it up. Is it getting annoying my saying that at the beginning of each chapter? If anybody says it is, I'll stop. It's just, I don't want somebody reading this and saying, "What an idiot that Batchbabe is, she's got it all wrong," so I want to preempt that by saying, yeah, I may have. Anyway, enjoy the adrenaline rush!  
> This chapter's a bit longer, but there's just so much going on...hope you don't mind.

As it turned out, I didn't get to talk with Melissa Tuesday evening about what was going on with her and Elaine. Because I had to get up early on Wednesday, I left the bar before the other three ladies. I felt nervous walking through the park to our hotel by myself, but I was reassured when I wasn't allowed further than the lobby without running my hotel ID card through a security scanner on my way up to my room. No random psychos were going to be flinging poo at my door that night.

** ** ** **

I had always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie. I loved skiing, snowboarding, water skiing, tubing down river rapids or snow-covered mountains, and had even gone bungee-jumping one time. But nothing, _nothing_ , I had ever done had prepared me for sky diving.

Ben greeted me with excitement when I climbed in the car promptly at 7:30. “Have you eaten breakfast?” he asked.

“Oh, no, I didn't even think of it. I never eat so early.”

“Well, it's a good thing I packed us something then. We can eat when we get there. Are you nervous?”

“I haven't been, but my stomach is starting to feel a little fluttery. I don't know if I'm nervous or excited.”

“Probably both. I get the same feeling before a jump. And after...well, you'll see. It's very intense.”

“Yeah, but that's hours from now, right? Don't we have to do all kinds of training first?”

Ben laughed. “Yes, _I_ have to train _you_ how to do this. And all on camera. Fun, right?”

“On camera?” I asked. 

“One of the things you signed after _winning_ me (he grinned a bit widely here) said that you agreed to have a camera crew follow us around on our 'date' for publicity purposes for next year's auction. I'm used to having cameras shoved in my face all the time; I hope you don't mind too much.”

I gaped at Ben. I knew I was gaping because I could feel the air swirling about through my open mouth. “Ben.” I said, as a statement.

“Yes?” he asked, curiously.

“Ben. Do you realize – do you – how long have – I didn't really read – why didn't...?”

“Ah, as eloquent as ever. I assume you are flustered by something to do with the cameras?”

My face felt hot and I knew I was blushing. I _hated_ the way I always stuttered when I got worked up about something, whether I was confused, angry, or discombobulated in any way. I drew in a deep breath, trying to calm my mouth into making proper words. “Ben, do you remember why I bid on you?”

“Yes, I remember quite clearly. It was only a few days ago, though it seems like longer.”

“So how likely do you suppose it is that a group of women could have put that plan into action _with a camera crew taking photos the whole time_?”

Ben looked a little too surprised. “Oh, my, I hadn't even thought of that,” he said.

I looked at him. I had only just met him, but I believed he was lying. “You did think of that,” I said. “You did think of that and for some reason you didn't tell me.” I began to feel angry. I began to assume that Ben had known this ever since I first told him why I had bid on him. I began to think Ben thought I was a total idiot, but had been humoring me for his own amusement. And I continued to feel incredibly angry. 

I was just about to start shouting at him when he held up his hands. “No, stop, I can see you're getting angry. Don't. I don't know exactly why you're getting angry, but you think I was taking the piss, I'll bet. I really wasn't. I didn't think about the cameras until Sunday when David and I were talking about what to do with you ladies Monday. He actually pointed it out.” 

He saw I was about to speak, which was never a good thing when I was upset, so he hurriedly cut me off. “And we didn't say anything to you because we didn't want to make you feel bad. David felt bad because he knew it would have been him you bid on instead of me. That's one reason he was glad we made plans to do things with you this week. Please, Jennifer, please don't be mad.”

Instead of talking, I thought about what Ben had just said. I decided to believe him, but remained silent for fear of tripping all over my tongue again. Unfortunately, Ben took this as further evidence of my anger. “Oh, Jesus, I knew I should have said something. I just didn't want you to be mad at me.”

To this I did have to speak. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Basically, for not being David Tennant,” Benedict answered simply.

I laughed at this. Because there had been a few times when I had felt exactly that way. “Oh, Ben, I'm such a jerk,” I said. “Okay, damn, for some reason I keep on getting mad at you, and keep on being proven wrong to do so.”

“Your best bet would be to just assume that I am always right, always kind, and always on your side,” Ben said. “Then you can quit getting angry and enjoy our time together. Even if I'm not the fabulous David Tennant.”

I laughed again, and for the rest of the hour-and-a-half long drive to the skydiving facility, we chatted easily about life in London, life in Minnesota, and all the crazy things we liked to do. It turned out Ben was a bit of a daredevil, as well, which wasn't surprising considering where we were headed.

** ** ** **

The training and preparation for the jump took hours, but they flew by quickly. The funnest part of training was the wind tunnel, where we floated on the jets shooting air so hard at us that we stayed floating up in the air. It was somewhat like flying, but I kept being nervous that I would somehow fall into the air jets.

There was so much to learn, and it was all very hands-on, so I didn't have time to get nervous. There were other jumpers, and each jumper was paired up with their trainer, who would also be jumping in tandem with them. I wasn't nervous at all until we were actually in the plane.

“It's a nice day, so we're going to go all the way up to 5,000 metres, and we pull the rip cord at 1,500 metres,” Ben explained. I must have looked a bit blank, because he laughed and said, “That's 13,000 feet and 5,000 feet respectively.”

“Wow. So that's 8,000 feet of free falling,” I said dreamily. “How long does that take?”

“Just under a minute,” Ben answered. “But it feels like a lot longer when you're up there, trust me.”

I felt a bit ripped off. “Only a minute?” I complained. “All this work and preparation for only a minute of flying? How many times can we jump today?”

Ben laughed again. He was spending a great deal of this day laughing at me, but I didn't feel self conscious. I was glad to be amusing him and not pissing him off as I had so many other times. “Usually, only one jump per day. All these other people will get one jump. But as I have privileges here, being an instructor, I finessed our way into getting three jumps.”

“Oh, that's awesome!” I said, glad to have an “in” with Ben being my instructor and date. “Do I get to jump on my own at all?”

“Ah, no, that takes a lot more than three jumps,” Ben answered, and I wasn't too bothered. “But between jumps, we get to drive a hover-craft.” I didn't know if I believed him on that one, but let it go. I'd find out soon enough.

I also wasn't bothered by the camera crew that had been following us around all day. They stayed back, not interrupting us or being terribly obvious. Ben had chatted with them a bit when they first arrived at the facility, and I assumed he asked that they stay mostly out of our way, because they did. I was grateful. I had experienced a little mini-fame when I had won the lottery, and didn't like the media spotlight at all.

** ** ** **

Once we were up in the plane, I began to feel flutters in my stomach that were definitely nerves. I was also super excited. I was literally jumping up and down as we waited for the plane to reach 13,000 feet (as a loyal American, I refused to think in metres). I had checked and re-checked all my harnesses, and Ben had also checked them over two or three times, and there was nothing left to do but attach his harness to mine, so we could jump safely in tandem. We also had a solo jumper coming with us, to take a video of us as we fell. That was a little extra the facility offered to everyone and had nothing to do with our charity camera crew.

As we stood near the edge of the plane, I realized that being harnessed together was a pretty intimate thing. Ben's body was pressed up against mine as we stood there, and I started to feel a little embarrassed. However, when everybody had given the thumb's up, and we flung ourselves out of the plane, I forgot all about my body, Ben's body, the earth's body. 

I was flying! I was aware of Ben being above me, but just barely. I was whooping and laughing harder than I ever had. I could feel tears wiping their way up the side of my face as I experienced the most amazing feeling I had ever felt. This beat bungee jumping entirely. I was connected to nothing that was connected to the earth, and I was falling straight toward the ground. But I didn't feel like I was falling; I honestly felt as though I were flying. I was sure that if I could just get some forward momentum, I could fly around the whole globe before having to land.

Ben was shouting and laughing, as well, and a small part of my brain picked up on his joy. We both had our arms flung out to the sides and up, and he grabbed my hands for a few moments, sharing the pure joy and rush of adrenaline. 

He had been right that the minute would seem far longer. It felt like at least a half an hour before he signaled that he was going to pull the cord, and yanked it. That was very jarring. I felt like I had already landed, the change in speed from all-out falling to floating along under a wide, blue, rectangular parachute was so great. Our bodies realigned and our feet pointed down, and now I felt connected again. Connected to the parachute, and connected to Ben. I was suddenly incredibly aware of his body pressed up against mine, and tried to put it out of my mind.

We landed within the circle that we were aiming for, and I felt proud of the job we did, even though I did fall over backwards on top of Ben in an ungraceful heap. We rolled sideways on the ground, and Ben undid the harness that connected us. I jumped up and felt...I felt something strong. I looked at Ben and suddenly he looked as beautiful as all the fangirls said he did. I noticed his beautiful eyes, his high cheekbones, the smooth skin under each of his eyes, his plump, bow-shaped mouth, his firm muscles...okay, I felt horny. I was breathing hard, and I didn't think it was entirely because of the rush of the jump.

Ben looked at my face and laughed nearly as hard as he had when we were flying. “Yeah, that's it,” he managed to get out. “That's how you feel when you land.”

I was too mad with lust to even feel embarrassed that he picked up on how I was feeling. I wanted to jump him right then and there, and I didn't even care that he knew it. “Ben,” I gasped, “Ben.”

“Okay, remember we are being filmed,” he said. “I feel the same way. When you survive a near-death experience, like jumping out of a plane, the desire for life is strong. And what more life exists than, well...” he trailed off, knowing I obviously understood what he meant.

“You knew this was going to happen?” I asked, still breathing hard, still wanting everybody and everything to disappear but me and Ben.

“Yes,” he said, laughing and blushing, “although I didn't know to what extent. I'm trying not to be flattered. I think I could be any man on earth right now, but with the way you're looking at me, I can't help but feel pretty desirable.”

“And you feel the same way?” I panted, although I was trying to get myself under some semblance of control.

“Oh, yeah,” Ben agreed, and I laughed with him. “We're a mess. But we can't embarrass ourselves in front of these cameras. Not to mention, I wouldn't want to take advantage of you in this situation.”

I thought about that, and realized what I was saying or implying with my words and actions. I still couldn't find it in me to be embarrassed, though. I did, however, get my breathing under control and managed not to rip Ben's clothes off. I posed with him for the cameras, smiled and waved, and even answered a few questions the woman with the camera guy asked about what it was like to go skydiving with Benedict Cumberbatch. I left out the part where I turned into a huge ball of lust, thankfully.

After the interview, we actually did get to drive a hover-craft. Well, Ben got to drive. It wasn't quite the Jetsons, but it was amazing nonetheless. We only got to drive it around the track for about fifteen minutes between each jump, and I wished we'd had more time with it. Not that I would give up jumping!

We jumped two more times that day, without the cameras. This time, I knew how I would feel at the end of the jump, and made Ben promise not to let me do anything I would regret later. “I don't know how much later,” I said, “as I think jumping you still sounds pretty good. But I think eventually I would feel pretty stupid about it.”

“Gee, thanks,” Ben answered wryly, and grinned.

“Don't get me wrong,” I said. “If I had to share a near-death experience with somebody today, I'm glad it was you.”

“Really? You're not wishing I was David Tennant right now?”

“Actually, no,” I answered. “I love David Tennant and all, but if I fell on top of him like I did you, I think he might have broken. He's nothing but skinny bones in a suit.”

Ben guffawed, and grabbed my hand, and we jumped out of the plane again.


	13. Finally Melissa & Elaine's Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the chapter title suggests...we finally find out just what is going on with Melissa and Elaine!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm writing at a really fast pace, so I should be able to post a chapter every day or every other day. Needless to say, I'm living in this daydream right now, and as it's so much more pleasant than my boring, every-day life, I'm having a great time and producing more quickly than I have before.

On the ride home, Ben and I sat closer than necessary in the back of the hired car. At first, we talked fervently about all that we had done that day, but it didn't take long before weariness set in, and we grew quiet. The scenery was lovely as we drove through the countryside back toward the city. I was enjoying the country scenery, when suddenly Ben was jostling me, and I opened my eyes and realized we had returned to London, to the Dorchester. “Oh,” I said as realized I had fallen asleep against Ben's chest and shoulder. 

He unwrapped his arm from around me as I sat up trying to get my bearings. “Oh, I fell asleep,” I said, and suddenly alarmed, I wiped my mouth. “Oh, God, please tell me I didn't snore or drool on you or something awful,” I begged.

Ben looked down at his shirt, and smiled up at me. “No drooling, and no snoring. Well, a wee little whistling sound now and then, but that hardly counts as snoring.” 

“Well, this was really fun...” I began, and Ben cut me off.

“Oh, no, this is not the end of our date. Well, in a way it is. We're going up to your suite, getting changed, and David and I are taking you and Vivienne to dinner at your hotel, where the world-famous Alain Ducasse has a magnificent meal experience prepared for us.”

“Okay,” I said, beginning to get used to Ben and his taking control of things. “But why is that 'in a way' the end of our date?”

“Because tonight, you are David's date. Although he is seeing someone, he knows you really like him, and he wants to show you what it would be like to have an evening at his side. It's my job to make sure you understand that as sweet and soppy as he may be, he is totally in love with Georgia, going to propose to her in two weeks' time, and not interested in anything more than a fun and slightly romantic evening with a good friend.”

“Ah,” I responded, taking it all in. “Well, what you're saying is, David doesn't expect to sleep with me.”

“Basically, yes. Or to fall in love with you amidst the romance of the whole situation. Or anything like that.”

“Okay, well, as I certainly never planned to sleep with him, and only in my daydreams does he ever fall in love with me, I think I can handle that.”

“Seriously? Daydreams?” Ben chuckled. 

I looked out of the glass elevator that was lifting us to my suite, and blushed once again. “Well, I haven't had a boyfriend since just after I won the lottery, and a totally inaccessible man is easier to dream about than some of the jerks who were trying to actually date me,” I explained. “Although I must admit, now that I've met him, and he is to some extent accessible, I won't be daydreaming about him any more. That would just be rude.”

“I'm not even going to ask your definition of daydream,” Ben said.

“We will all be better off for that,” I said saucily and grinned at him.

** ** ** **

When we walked into the suite, Melissa, Elaine, and David were all sitting and talking in the first sitting room. David got up and smiled at me while he grabbed a garment bag off the coat rack and handed it to Ben. “Here you go, mate, make yourself respectable,” he told Ben, still watching me with a glint in his eyes.

“So, Ben told you?” David asked. I nodded. “Well, my beautiful Jennifer, I will wait here while you get ready. Melissa assured me that you have a considerable wardrobe full of beautiful dinner dresses, so please dress to match Ben and me in our tuxes.” He did indeed have on a very fancy-looking tuxedo, and I assumed that was what was in the garment bag he had handed to Ben.

“How long do I have to get ready?” I asked, worried that I wouldn't have time to look as elegant as David did. Men had it so easy.

“About an hour. There's no rush.” Men were also clueless.

I looked to Melissa, who was sitting wrapped up with Elaine on the couch, and she immediately disentangled herself to come to my aid. “Let's get you all gussied up,” she said, and took my hand as she led me to my bedroom.

Melissa opened my closet, and started to say, “I know you always wear blue because of your eyes, but tonight --” when I cut her off with a squeal.

“Oooooh, shut up about dresses, what the hell?” I asked laughing and smiling so she knew I was happy for her.

She blushed as deep as I'd ever seen her blush as she pulled out a green gown I had bought. It was beautiful and sexy, and was exactly the thing I wanted to wear this evening. But I demanded that Melissa talk while I changed into first some of my new, sexy lingerie (even though it wouldn't be seen, it would be nice to know it was there) and then into the dress itself.

“Oh, I've been dying to talk to you,” she gushed. “It's crazy. I'm falling in love with a _woman_. I don't even think I'm a lesbian. I mean, I'm not suddenly ogling women on the street or anything.”

“Well, it's not like you were busy ogling men before, so that might not be a good indicator.”

Melissa bit her lower lip. “Oh, that's true,” she said thoughtfully. “I don't know. So I don't think it's because she's a woman, it's just because she's _Elaine_. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, absolutely. What about her, though? And what about Roman?” I reminded her of her budding relationship back home. 

“Oh, Roman, I've already skyped with him and he was pretty tickled. I told him I was over here falling in love with a woman, and he said since he couldn't really compete with that, he wished me the best. It was a nice, funny conversation.” She giggled. 

“So how did all this happen?” I asked, as I started brushing the day's dust and dirt from my hair. I needed to take a shower, so I stripped everything back off as Melissa continued.

“Elaine is actually a lesbian, which she told me the first night we met, at the charity event. She flirted with me so hard, it was like any man I've ever known, and I responded. I mean, I _really_ responded. Just like I would with a guy. When she touched my hand, it sparked all through my body, just like with a guy that I'm crazy about. And I _like_ her so much. We have so much in common, but she's more aggressive than me. Which is good, or this never would have happened.”

“Okay,” I said, dying of curiosity, “so holding hands and all. But you know, SEX? What about that?”

Melissa actually got even redder. “I didn't know if I really could go through with it, but I found out today not only that I could, but that I really enjoyed it.”

I doubled over laughing, and realized I was naked. “Hey, no peeking at the moichandise,” I said in a fake Brooklyn accent.

Luckily, Melissa and I were close enough that she understood I was only teasing her. “You may be one of the most beautiful women I know,” she said, “but I am truly only turned on by Elaine. I mean, _really_ turned on by her.”

“Ooh, you little slut,” I said, dodging the towel she threw at me as I zipped into the shower.

I finished that quickly, as I was on a limited time budget, and got dressed again and did my hair and makeup while Melissa told me in greater detail about all that had happened between her and Elaine. And how they planned to stay together even after our vacation. Elaine would come for an extended holiday, possibly through the whole winter. “She has a rich family and she runs their foundation,” Melissa explained, “and she can do that from anywhere, so...” 

“Oh, Melissa, that's so exciting. Oh, your family's going to FREAK! I mean, no, they'll be shocked, but they're pretty cool.”

“I'm more worried about Scott,” Melissa admitted. Scott was her ex-husband, and more importantly in this situation, the father of her two children.

“Well, it doesn't matter what he thinks,” I said. “We live in Minnesota where gay marriage is legal and no court on earth would deal with custody issues based on your relationship with Elaine.”

“Oh, I've been thinking the same thing, but it's a _huge_ relief to hear you say it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned...the next chapter is AMAZING!


	14. Oh What A Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Jennifer and DAVID are on a date this time. How does that go? Quite well!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, I had so much fun writing this. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

David and Ben stood up as I entered the sitting room, and both looked appropriately appreciative of my stunning dress, hair, and makeup. Even Vivienne and Elaine made appreciative sounds, and I felt more glamorous than I ever had in my life. My dress was made of lace and green silk, the crisp kind, and there were numerous strategically-placed semi-see-through areas that made it especially sexy looking. It fit me like the proverbial glove, and I was glad that one of the things I had insisted on in my new house had been a full gym setup. I was fit and looking good, and I knew it. What a wonderful way to feel.

Vivienne looked stunning, as well. She had on a purple Armani gown made of crepe that fit her closely on top, gathered at her waist, and flowed beautifully almost to the floor. I had been with her when she bought it, and it looked even more amazing in the “real world” than it had when she tried it on at the store. “Ooh, Viv, you are gorgeous,” I breathed, feeling slightly over-exposed compared to her.

“No, Jennifer, it is you who are causing everybody's eyes to pop right out of our heads,” she exclaimed. I loved how her French accent and the words she chose were so musical. 

“Well,” said David, looking at Ben, “I think we are the luckiest men at Alain's tonight, don't you?”

“Indeed,” said Ben, his eyes lingering on my dress. Particularly, I noticed, on those open parts. He seemed to gather himself, and shifted his eyes to the beautiful Vivienne. “And you are to be my date tonight, Vivienne,” he said gallantly, extending his hand to her. He had on white gloves, as did David, and I was glad to have dressed in my very best gown.

David walked to me, took my hand, and bowed down and kissed it. I tried not to giggle, as he seemed to be making a serious gesture, but I couldn't help it. “Hey, now, I'm trying to be romantic here,” he complained playfully.

“Sorry,” I said, which was belied by my further fit of giggles. David started giggling, too, and pretty soon we were all cracking up, with no idea of really why. But it was a great way to begin an evening.

David checked his watch, and crooked his arm. I wrapped my arm around his, and we all headed out the door that Elaine held open for us. “Have a lovely time,” she said, winking at Vivienne. I remembered how I had thought yesterday that Viv really liked Ben, and assumed she was sitting next to me on cloud nine to be on a date with him. 

And for both of us, this was an actual date. Not a group hanging out, not an arranged event for the sake of charity, but an evening where four people were out with someone they liked quite a lot and intended to have a good time. Because even though David was not romantically interested in me, I could tell that he liked me quite well. We never stopped talking when we were together, and laughed as often as not. It was impossible to have that good a time with someone and not like them.

There was a room off of the elegant, contemporary restaurant that was set aside for our party of four. It was obvious that Ben and David had planned this evening out, with a private dining room, and I felt that much more special knowing it. I looked at the walls, which were studded with thousands of silk buttons in all shades of green. “Look, I match the wall,” I said, eliciting chuckles from David, Ben, and Viv.

We were seated by beautifully-dressed waiters, who then poured wine for us. Apparently, everything we were to consume had been planned ahead. As we sipped the wine, before conversation really got going, we had a visit by a very well-dressed gentleman. “'Ello,” he said with a French accent, “I am Nicolas Defremont, Director of Alain Ducasse at Dorchester, and I wanted to wish you all a lovely evening. If anything is less than perfectly satisfactory this evening, do not hesitate to ask one of my staff to find me, and I will attend to it immediately.” Although his words were very deferential, his tone indicated that we were to be suitably impressed with this special service – so I was. I think even Ben and David were. We thanked Monsieur Defremont, and he disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared.

“Well,” said Ben, “that was a bit impressive.”

David grinned. “My auntie is married to his brother, so whenever I come here, he treats me and my guests that way.”

I giggled. “For a man who is supposed to be terribly humble, you certainly have spent a lot of the week using your David Tennant-ness,” I pointed out.

“Ah, guilty, but how often do such beautiful women from foreign lands come briefly into my life?” he said, with a theatrical flair that reminded me of his Shakespearean background. “I must represent Queen and country, and be a proper ambassador for Great Britain.”

Viv and I both giggled this time. “You are truly doing a magnificent job,” she assured him.

We then talked about how our days had gone. Vivienne and David had taken a helicopter tour of London, and gone to the London Zoo, where they got to meet penguins and giraffes close-up and interact with them, as well as visit all the other fascinating exhibits. As Vivienne described the wonderful time they'd had, I wondered if part of Melissa's attraction to Elaine was because she was French. Because Vivienne was so charming, and she just oozed sex appeal, because of her accent and her adorably-chosen words. I watched Ben as she talked, and he was very attentive. I thought maybe one of us had the possibility of having some kind of relations beyond friendship with our celebrity crush this week. Good for her, I thought. Mostly.

As each course was served, and described in detail by the waiter serving it, we paused in our conversation. Each appetizer and dish was exquisitely prepared and tasted wonderful, but the portions were so tiny that I was worried I'd have to raid the snack bar when I got back to my suite that night. That's not to say that I had any complaints. I was in London, having the highest class French dinner experience possible, and I was in heaven.

Although heaven had more to do with the warm, chocolate eyes that I spent most of my time gazing into. The fact that they were gazing right back into my eyes may have been a factor. After a few appetizers and soup, we had sort of split into couples. Ben and Vivienne were chatting quietly, and David and I were doing the same. He asked about where I had grown up, what it had been like before and after I won the lottery, and what my home was like now. I asked him about his home growing up, and he had great stories to tell. I could tell he loved his parents very much, and I saw a bit of sadness as he talked about his mother, who had passed away not very long ago. But nothing really kept him down; he was one of the happiest people I had ever met.

The dining experience lasted about two hours (not that any of us were looking at a clock), and by the end of it, I was floating along in a little daydream involving me and David and more evenings like this. A little part of my mind reminded myself this was all a vacation dream, and I was okay with that, but the rest of me figured, why not play along with my fantasies? Who would have ever thought this trip would have turned out to be so much more than I had imagined?

“Why don't we retire to your suite for a few after-dinner drinks?” David asked, as the last of our dinnerware was discreetly removed. 

I agreed, and David pulled my chair out and took my arm in his. He gave Ben a meaningful look, which I couldn't read, but which I was to figure out shortly.

Ben and Vivienne did not come up in the elevator with us, and I figured they wanted some time to themselves. They seemed very cozy this evening. David talked to me about the meal, in a quiet voice, as we were standing very close to one another. My heart was beating fast, and no matter what I tried to convince myself of, I felt like I was on a real, romantic date with my beloved David Tennant.

When we reached my door and I took out my key card, David took it from me and tucked it into his pocket. He faced me with a beautiful smile on his face. “Ben has told you about me and Georgia?” he asked. I nodded. “We'll be getting engaged in a couple of weeks. I've told her about you, about what you did for Ben, and about how you had originally wanted to be my date.” He took a step closer to me, and we were practically touching. I'm pretty sure my breathing had ceased entirely as he leaned his face closer to mine.

“She's a wonderful woman, Georgia, and she wanted me to provide you with the fullest experience possible, without actually betraying her,” he said, practically in a whisper. “And one thing about Europeans, is we are much more flexible with, well...” He stopped talking and leaned forward and KISSED ME! It was all I could do to continue standing, as my knees wanted to melt away entirely. 

And it wasn't a brotherly smack, either. His lips were open, as he kissed both of my lips, then the top one, then the bottom one. Then he turned his mouth sideways, opened it a little wider, and kissed my whole mouth. By now, I had opened my lips as well, and attempted to keep my tongue to itself, but it slipped out and licked David's lower lip. I thought he would jump back at my having gone too far, but instead, he licked my tongue back, and then my lips, and then his tongue was in my mouth, and we were eagerly, passionately kissing one another. This went on for, well, approximately a lifetime, before I did do something that made him step back. I was really getting into the kiss, and David was, too. He had both hands holding the sides of my face, and my hands were on his arms. When I reached around his back and pulled my body close to his, he paused in kissing me, gave me two more small kisses on my lips, and stepped back. 

“Oh, sorry,” I said, feeling a little stupid, and a lot reluctant to break our kiss.

David grinned hugely. “There's nothing for you to be sorry for,” he assured me, and leaned forward and kissed the tip of my nose. He was breathing heavily, as I was, and it took a moment for us to gain our composure.

“So really, Georgia was okay with that?” I asked. 

“Actually, yes,” David said. “Remember I'm an actor. I do mostly-naked love scenes with women. My heart is hers, and she knows it. But I wanted to be the Brit who snogged you during your trip to London. I'm so flattered by your appreciation, and I've gotta admit, you are really hot and I'm totally attracted to you.”

I felt my face go hot, and I decided not to talk, considering what garble would probably have come out of my mouth. 

“But,” David said, stepping back a full step, still holding one of my hands, “we are back to being just platonic friends as of now, okay?” 

I smiled and nodded. “I promise not to even brag about this on the internet, how's that?” I asked, causing David to laugh heartily. 

“Oh, that would be far from the worst thing anybody's posted about me,” he said, “but it would probably make your life easier if you didn't.”

I agreed, and before I could say anything else, Ben and Viv stepped out of the elevator and walked toward us. Ben gave David a knowing grin, and I felt sure that Ben knew why David had taken me up alone. I figured, too, that Ben and Viv had been snogging somewhere as well. It was just that kind of night.

David took my key card out of his pocket and opened the door, and the six of us (Melissa and Elaine were waiting up for us) had a couple of drinks before Ben said, “All right, if none of you will say it, I will. We need some room service. I'm starving!”

“Oh, thank you,” I gushed. “I thought I was the only one. That dinner was fancy as hell, but it wasn't very filling.” 

So to our delight, the Dorchester's room service offered burgers and chips (which, as I've mentioned, is what they called fries), and we all had a nice substantial dinner. Probably because of that, nobody got very drunk, but I did have a surprise in store for me when I commented on how late it was for Elaine and Vivienne to be out.

“Oh, we are not out at all,” said Elaine. 

“Oh, please don't be mad,” said Melissa, “but they've checked out of their hotel and are now our guests. We have three bedrooms, so Viv gets the extra and Elaine...” She trailed off with a wicked grin, and I smiled back at her.

“Got it. Elaine sleeps on the floor in the sitting room.” 

We all laughed at that, and spent about another hour or so in cheerful conversation with each other before the men left. David kissed my cheek, and Vivienne's, and Ben did the same. I had been hoping for one more little smooch on the mouth, but to no avail. Which was fine, as I had absolutely no reason to complain. My trip had turned out to be more than I had dreamed of, and it wasn't even over yet. Tomorrow, we had a day of tourism led by the guys again, and Friday night, we were all going to a popular dance club together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have never even written a kissing scene before. This is my practice before I dig into some funner stuff...how did I do? Believable? Pleasant? Wish you were there?


	15. Tourists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunk Ben - not as fun as drunk Sherlock, but still, a bit entertaining!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all those who are leaving kudos and nice comments. It's so fun to have my writing appreciated by others. I hope you enjoy this cheery little chapter. Not much happens other than they have a good time, but something really happens in the next chapter, so be prepapared...

We were ready by 9 am on Thursday morning when David and Ben came to pick us up. David was completely back to his normal, friendly, boisterous self, and I had to come to terms with the fact that last night's romance was gone. It had been a role for him to play, and I was grateful he had, because it was a wonderful experience. But the tiny little stupid part of me that assumed of _course_ he would find me so amazing that he would cancel all his real life plans and want nothing more than to spend time with me and fall in love with me and marry me and have children with me – that part of me was finally coming to terms with its not-surprising demise. Ah, well.

As we naturally separated into couples, I was once again with Benedict. Which was okay with me, because I actually had as much fun with Ben as I did with David. And although I knew that tomorrow night would be my last time hanging out with David, I was beginning to believe that Ben really did want to be friends with me for a longer time than just my vacation. It was so weird to think that I had met these people only 5 days ago. So much had happened. Of course, being in an entirely different world than I was used to tended to encapsulate the whole experience and make it seem even more surreal.

“So, where are we off to today,” asked Melissa as we grabbed our jackets and headed out. 

“First, we're having breakfast at a cafe near the London Eye, and then we're headed somewhere extra special that's right near there,” David informed us. “We're keeping it a surprise and we're betting you've never heard of it before.”

“Actually, we really are betting,” added Ben, “so if you've not heard of it, lie and say you have, so I can win.”

“Oh, and today, we're riding on the tube,” added David. “You can't really experience London being carted around in hired cars all the time. You have to see the people, smell the kebab, experience faulty lights as we go through dark tunnels on the tube. You'll love it.”

“I went on the el in Chicago once,” I said, “and saw these HUGE sewer rats. Will we get to see any of those?” 

“Not on the tube, but maybe elsewhere,” Ben said cryptically.

During breakfast, I got a weird feeling between my shoulder blades, as though somebody were watching me. I turned around a few times, to see nothing more than crowds of people walking by, and other people lounging around on benches and leaning on buildings or railings. I didn't see anybody specifically looking in our direction, but there were so many people, I doubted I'd be able to tell. 

After I had scanned the landscape behind me about four or five times, Ben asked, “Jennifer, are you looking for something specific?” 

“No,” I said, “it's nothing. I just have this weird feeling like I'm being watched.”

“Oh, fuck,” Ben said, surprising me. “This happens to me all the time, and David too, I'm sure. People spot us, they start taking pictures. I'm surprised it hasn't happened more since we've been out on the town together. Somebody is probably watching us, but don't worry, it happens all the time.”

“Well, I guess,” I said warily, “as long as they don't fling poo at me or anything.” I thought this would cause us to laugh, but we actually looked around at each other, smiling nervously. It wasn't actually funny to think about. It was kind of scary.

“I've been at this whole fame thing since before 2005,” David said. “Nothing like that has ever happened. And think about it. For them to do that at your hotel means they obviously didn't want to get close to you. It's just something you're going to have to get used to if you're going to be hanging out with public figures.” He winked at Ben, who blushed slightly.

“Well I do not like the idea of being ogled,” said Viv, and I had to keep from snorting out laughter. If there was one person in our group who actually _would_ like being ogled, it was Vivienne. Ben gave me a look with a little smirk that let me know he was thinking exactly the same thing.

“That must be rough for you,” I said. “Look at you. No doubt you are ogled all the time!”

Viv sighed. “It's a cross I must bear,” she said, and laughed to let us know she was kidding. Probably.

The big surprise was a place called the London Dungeons. It was an attraction with actors and stage sets underneath the streets of London, and felt really authentic. Including the rats! It was a bit scary, and a lot funny. It was fully theatrical – at no point did we feel we were “on a tour,” but felt that we were actually experiencing the dangers of the creaky old elevator that brought us below the streets, the wrath of King Henry VIII, the freaky plague doctors in their birdlike masks and dark robes, the murderous Sweeney Todd, and the fear that had gripped London during Jack the Ripper's reign. 

We went through a maze of foggy streets in “White Chapel”, trying to stay ahead of Jack the Ripper. That was the scariest part. It was so quiet, it felt real. I gripped Ben's hand hard the whole time we were in that part. At the very end, we were treated to the “Drop Ride” which was supposed to be a hanging, in which _we_ were to be hanged. In reality, we were strapped to an apparatus and dropped quickly through the floor to the tunnel that led to the exit. We got pictures of our scared faces, but I felt a bit smug as I commented how it wasn't _quite_ as scary as an 8,000-foot free fall after jumping out of a plane. I decided to have Ben's back, and lied assuring David that I had heard all about the Dungeons. He didn't believe me, I could tell, but he handed over a 20-pound note to Ben. I thought it was cute that they actually had a bet about something to do with us.

The whole Dungeon took about an hour-and-a-half, though it had felt like much longer, and we re-emerged on the actual streets of London at about 11:45. Or quarter-of-twelve in Brit speak. Nobody felt much like eating yet, so David led us once again to the tube station, and we rode the tube to Shakespeare's Globe Theatre, where the guys had arranged a tour led by...themselves! David had done staged readings previously at the Globe so it was actually he who led the tour.

“So do you think you'll ever perform here?” I asked Ben as we stepped into the large, open chamber of the rounded theatre.

“I certainly do,” he said vehemently. “I don't know if you know, but I do drama as well as TV and film.” 

“Oh, yeah, didn't you play Frankenstein?” I asked, remembering something I had seen on Tumblr.

“Yes, that's one of the many plays I was involved with,” he said. “That one was especially fun, because I took turns with an actor called Johnny Lee Miller playing the monster and the doctor. We played that at the National Theatre.” I nodded knowingly as if I had ever heard of the National Theatre before. Ben went on. “I'm looking to do Hamlet next year, but not at the Globe.”

We listened to David as he explained some of the history of the theatre, and I remembered that he had done an episode of Doctor Who in the actual theatre, so I asked him about that. He talked about that for awhile, and had us all cracking up with his stories.

After we were done looking through all the exhibitions, it was time for lunch. What we actually had was “Afternoon Tea” at the Swan, which was connected with the Globe Theatre. We sat on the most comfortable of chairs and couches, more like a living room than a dining area, and our window looked out on the Thames and the opposite bank of the river. We caught sight of the same tour boat we had been on Monday, and we waved at the people who were on the boat looking up at the Globe. A couple of them waved back.

Afternoon Tea was a whole new idea to me, but it turned out to be pretty much what I expected. A selection of different teas (Ben chose Darjeeling for me, and it was delicious) and dainty little sandwiches and sweets. Ben and I split our food, so I had half of a cucumber and cream cheese sandwich, and half of a Scottish smoked salmon sandwich, and then we shared a lemon & poppy seed cupcake, and a delicious little plate of passion fruit curd tartlets. 

I noticed that Melissa and Elaine were doing the same sharing thing with their meals, and were being soppy and romantic again. A couple of times, they leaned in for light kisses between tastes of food. I thought it should be weird to see Melissa kissing a woman, but it just wasn't. If anything, it made me feel a little giddy. I was as happy for her as I would have been for myself if I had found the love of my life on this trip. Or if he had been single, available, and in love with me as well.

Ben got really excited as we left the restaurant and announced, “We're going to the funnest place in London next.” He actually bounced up and down a bit as he exclaimed, “We're going to Camden Markets.” Unfortunately, he was met with blank stares from all four of us. “Oh, okay, foreigners. Well, Camden Markets is only the funnest place to shop on earth. They have everything: clothes, art, jewelry, music, pubs – oh, we have to go to a pub. Or two pubs. Or all the pubs. They each have their special drinks they make. It's the best way to spend a day in London, I promise you.” Now he _was_ actually jumping up and down a little, and I couldn't help but be excited.

We rode the tube again to Camden, and got off just outside the market area. I had been picturing a couple of streets with stalls and trucks, like a local craft fair in Minnesota, but this was something entirely different. There were the stalls and trucks selling all sorts of items, but there were also these huge warehouses – they were actually old stables, apparently – with shops enough to shame any of the local malls. And the people. I heard dozens of different languages being spoken, and there was laughter, kids running around, food being eaten at tables and on the go, smells of the foods of many different countries, and the hawkers shouting above it all, trying to interest us in whatever it was they were selling.

We wandered for hours, sometimes getting split up, though I was always with Ben. He had taken my hand so as not to lose me, and we all had our cell phones in case we couldn't find one another. I bought a few novelty t-shirts, as did Ben, and then we found a little jewelry stall with the most beautiful beaded necklaces. I looked at them all, and didn't realize what Ben was doing until he held one out to me. He had just bought it. “For you,” he said, and lifted my curls to fasten it round my neck. It was a delicate string of tiny blue beads, with a crystal cut bird the size of a pistachio dangling from it. It was beautiful.

“Oh, thank you, Ben,” I gushed, and hugged him. “How did you know I love birds?”

“I _have_ been listening as we've been talking, you know.” 

“Right,” I said absent-mindedly as I held the little bird up to the light, and watched the sparkles that emanated from it. “Oh, this is so beautiful. Thank you so much.”

“A little something for you to remember me by, between our visits,” he said. I looked at him curiously. “I told you we are friends now. That is seriously going to continue once you've gone home. I'm a loyal person. Believe me.” 

He had put his hand on my shoulder while saying this, and I nudged into his hand. “I believe you,” I said, meaning it fully for the first time.

“Good,” he said, grinning broadly. His grin had the biggest smiley shape of anybody's I had ever known. His lips curved up into the shape that you usually draw on people who are smiling, but that never actually appear. Usually people's lips just spread out to the side, and maybe curve up a bit at the very outside edges. But Ben's whole mouth turned into a happy u-shape when he smiled. I hadn't found that very attractive at first, but it was starting to grow on me. As was the man sporting the cheery smile.

** ** ** **

We started out at one of the pubs nearest the market, and made a very late night of pub-hopping. In the end, we hit eight different pubs, and tasted the specialty drinks at each one. I knew for sure how many pubs we went to, because I collected match books from each of them. And it was weird that they had matchbooks, because none of them allowed smoking inside. Most of them did have porches, however, where people were free to smoke.

It was on one of these porches that I learned something surprising about Ben. He smoked! I don't know why I was so surprised. Of course, I had just spent the better part of five days with him and hadn't seen him light up once, so that could be part of the reason. “I'm absolutely appalled that you smoke!” I told him.

“Well,” he said, slurring his words a bit (we were at one of the last couple pubs we went to and were all pretty inebriated), “I don't really give a rat's ass if you are. You said you won't kiss me, so what do you care what my breath tastes like.”

I laughed at this. “Fair enough,” I answered, slurring my own words slightly. “But don't blow your smoke in my face, that's disgusting. You guys need to catch up with us.”

“Who needs to catch up with whom?” Ben asked in such a pompous tone that I was tempted to shove him just to see if he could remain standing. I graciously decided against it.

“Great Britain needs to catch up with America,” I said as if were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Are you trying to tell me that Americans do not smoke? It's a lie. I've seen that Marlboro guy. You guys smoke more than we do.” 

“Not the better class of people,” I assured him, including myself in that group. “Mostly you see smoking in trailer parks and in the south. In the redneck small towns in the north, too. The higher you go up in social class, the fewer people there are who smoke, or who admit it, anyway.”

“Well, la-di-fuckin-da,” Ben answered. 

I giggled. “Excellent comeback,” I assured him. We giggled some more, and he put his cigarette out before it was halfway finished. 

“Let me ask you a queshtion,” Ben said, and leaned very close to me. “If I hadn't smoked that, would you have kissed me if I asked you to?”

I backed my face away from Ben's – his breath _did_ smell horribly like cigarette smoke – and answered, “I've snogged one Brit on this trip, and that's one more than I was planning, so I'd better keep it at that.”

“Fucking David Tennant,” Ben said, standing back up away from me. I thought he would laugh, but he actually looked somewhat irritated.

At the eighth pub, we all sat together as a group again, and had _very_ lively conversation. Not very _intelligent_ conversation, as every one of us was good and proper drunk by then, but it was very lively. David called a car to come pick us up, as he didn't think we'd be safe trying to navigate the tube back to the hotel, and they dropped us off, walking us up to our rooms. 

As he left me at the door, Ben leaned in and kissed my cheek, and whispered, “Ha!” as he walked away. “We'll be here at 8:30 tomorrow evening. Everybody better be sober by then, because we're going to dance the night away.”


	16. Dancing and Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fun night out turns into an absolute nightmare for Jennifer and Ben.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read about the Ministry of Sound and based this club on what I read and also on a club that used to be in Minneapolis called Mississippi Live. So it's my version of what the club is like. But I always had way more fun at Mississippi Live than our characters do on this particular night.

I slept in very late on Friday, and found on waking that I was the first one up. I lounged in the sitting room with the coffee machine, and spent a little quality time remembering the best moments of Wednesday evening. I vowed to never _ever_ forget that magnificent kiss. David's lips were so soft, and so pliable, and... And I needed to think of something else, because this was not a romance that was ever going to happen. 

So I thought about Melissa and Elaine, and what a surprise it was to have my lifelong best friend suddenly turn lesbian. I didn't do what some people did in these situations – think back on all the times we had been naked around each other, or gotten dressed together, or whatever. Obviously, if she had ever been attracted to me, I'd know it by now. And I didn't get miffed at the idea that she had never been attracted to me. I just enjoyed the thought of her and Elaine. Melissa had had a rough time with her relationships with men, and her ex-husband Scott had actually been physically abusive at times. I supposed women could be as big of jerks as men in relationships, but for some reason, Elaine just seemed right for Melissa. I was so happy for her.

As I was thinking of them, they came out of their room, and Elaine began to prepare some coffee. Melissa sat across from me on a lovely antique setee, and placed a brocade bolster behind her neck. “So, how was _your_ date on Wednesday?” she asked. “I haven't had a chance to grill you yet.”

I wondered if she somehow knew about David's and my kiss, but when I began to tell her about it, I found that she did not. Vivienne walked in as I was telling the story and gushing about what a great kisser David was. “Ooh, I am so jealous!” she exclaimed.

“Why?” I asked. “I thought you were getting along pretty well with Ben.”

“That is what I mean,” she explained. “When they gave each other that look, and you two left first, I was sure that he had something equally romantic on his mind, but all he did was explain to me that we needed to wait a few minutes before going up, as David wanted to talk to you about something. Then he chatted on about whatever dumb thing he was talking about...” I must have looked shocked when she said this, because she continued, “No, I'm sorry, I don't mean that. He is wonderful. I just had other things on my mind at the moment, and he so obviously did not. I am so jealous that you got all that romance!” She threw a small pillow at me, and we giggled like school girls until Elaine brought us all coffee.

As we continued chatting about all we had seen and done in the past few days, I wondered at Ben's behavior. I had thought it was so obvious that he and Viv were feeling all sorts of romantic feelings about each other on Wednesday night, but I must have misread at least Ben. And was some greedy, selfish, rotten little part of me glad? I saw another day of being especially nice to Viv in my nearest future. Why did I have to be so selfish? Was I romantically interested in Ben? Not at all. Did I want him romantically interested in someone other than me? No. And what possible reason could there be for that? I thought this must be why women tended to be so nasty and catty with each other. And I did spend the day being especially close and friendly with Vivienne, because I knew my dirty little heart needed to repent. And because I genuinely liked the vivacious French woman.

** ** ** **

That night was the last night the six of us would be spending together. We were going to a dance club called The Ministry of Sound, which was apparently one of the hottest London clubs. It had three different sound stages and numerous rooms in which to dance, socialize, drink, and party. It even had an outdoor courtyard to stroll in when it got too stuffy inside. I had learned all this from David the previous night, before we had gotten too drunk to make sense, and was excited to be going to my first London dance club.

We didn't have to spend much time getting ready, as the guys assured us it was a strictly casual place. Comfortable shoes to dance in (flat, strappy sandals for me), jeans, and a short-sleeved, light-weight shirt, as it tended to get very warm. I chose a cotton-silk blend Armani tank top in, of course, blue. The other ladies were dressed pretty similarly; we all had on expensive, stylish tank tops with French jeans and sandals. I made sure Melissa and Elaine were wearing different colors so we didn't end up looking like a preschool class again, and we were ready to go when the Ben and David arrived together to pick us up. They were both wearing jeans and t-shirts, but none of us were color-coded, thank goodness. We had a few pre-club drinks from our suite's bar, and headed out at about 10 pm. 

There was a long line to get into the club, but _once again_ , David got us right in. “What?” he said when I gave him a look. “I might as well use it while I have it.” We all laughed, appreciating that he had it.

The music in the first arena was techno, and LOUD! I instinctively grabbed Ben's and Melissa's hands, as they were the two closest to me. I didn't want us all to get separated. Ben led us all through to a quieter room, relatively speaking. It was still quite loud as we could still hear (and feel) the techno music, but it was quiet enough that we could talk, as long as we raised our volume enough.

“Let's go to the 103 Room,” Ben shouted for all of us to hear, “there's a group playing there tonight that I really like.” He led us through the room we were in, through another large area, and into a smaller dance area with a band playing some indie-punk-sounding music that was much more to my taste than the pounding techno music. Elaine and Melissa went off to dance, and Ben grabbed my hand. “Let's dance,” he said into my ear. As we hit the dance floor, I saw David and Viv were following us. I guessed we were going to continue our original pairings. Ah, well.

After a few minutes, I realized I was glad I was with Ben. David was a good dancer, but Ben was fantastic! And just like the night we had first met, he made me a better dancer, rather than showing me up. The band played a bunch of fast-paced songs, and we continued dancing without a break, working up quite a sweat and enjoying ourselves a great deal. When a slow song finally came on, Ben put his arms around my waist and leaned down to ask if I wanted to dance or get something to drink.

“Let's get something to drink,” I said. “Dancing is thirsty work!”

He led me to a bar just outside the 103 Room, and we got drinks and sat at a tall table with tall stools. David and Viv came over with drinks, too, but Melissa and Elaine had disappeared. I wasn't worried; we'd find them later. 

Viv and I excused ourselves to make a trip to the ladies' room (or the loo, as she called it). The room was beautiful! The sinks were made of marble, and the stalls were large, with partitions that went nearly to the ceiling and to the floor. Each stall felt like its own little room, and there was no graffiti as there would have been in any public restroom in the United States. Viv and I were both appreciative of the music that came from hidden speakers as it was mellow jazz, and we couldn't hear the music from the club, though we could still feel it. There were three couches placed around the room, and Viv and I spent a few minutes sitting on one and discussing the evening so far. We were both very happy.

After a few minutes, we made our way back to the table, and saw David and Ben in what looked like an intense discussion of something. As we reached the table, they looked up and stopped talking in order to smile at and greet us. Then I woke up, with shooting pains running through my head. I kept my eyes closed, and snuggled down into my bed. Except this was not my comfy Dorchester bed. I peeked my eyes open, and was rewarded with another searing pain shooting through my cranium.

“Oh, she's awake!” exclaimed Melissa. Then she burst into tears.

“What the actual fuck?” I groaned, my voice harsh and gravelly. “How did...I was just...Ben and David....where's Viv...what am I...what the _fuck_!?”

Viv leaned into my line of sight. “I'm here, Jennifer, are you okay?”

“No I'm _not_ okay. What am I doing in a hospital? Five seconds ago, you and I were walking towards Ben and David. And then I'm in a hospital bed. With all of you standing around me like I'm going to die. What the fuck?”

I heard a groan from the other end of the room, and Ben's baritone voice saying, “I'm being a bad influence on you. I'm the one who's supposed to be asking what the fucking fuck. So seriously, what the fucking fuck?”

I turned to see that Ben was in a hospital bed just a few feet from mine. David was sitting next to him on the side of his bed. “We have some things to tell you two,” David said. “We didn't know what you would remember when you awoke, and obviously it's nothing, so excuse me for a moment and we'll tell you what happened.”

I felt my heart start beating fast. I felt a prick in my arm as I sat up quickly, and realized I had an IV pouring some fluid into my veins. Ben had one also, but he stood up, still wearing last night's clothes (as I was), and dragged his IV over to my bed. “Scoot over,” he said, and climbed in next to me. “I don't know what the fuck is going on, but I don't want to miss anything. Whatever this is, we can deal with it together.”

I tried a small chuckle. “We must have gotten really drunk,” I told Ben.

“I've never had a hangover this bad,” he replied, rubbing his temples. I agreed, and David walked back into the room. With a police officer. I suddenly feared that we had done something horrible, some illegal thing, and were here under arrest.

“Don't worry,” David said, seemingly reading my mind, “she's here because she needs to find out if you remember anything. And she can help tell the story.” 

“Story?” I asked. My stomach was doing continual flip flops now. How could stuff have happened, stuff that involved a police officer, a hospital room, and the worst headache of my life, and I didn't remember any of it? And why were these people taking so bloody long in telling me!? “If somebody doesn't start talking right now, I'm going to scream. Or vomit. Or both. Please, what the _FUCK_!” As I said “fuck,” Ben joined in, and we chuckled a little bit at each other. 

“Okay,” David said, as Ben put one arm protectively around my shoulders. “First, what is the last thing you remember?” I told him again that it was returning from the restroom with Viv, and that I had seen them talking to each other, and that was pretty much it. Ben said that he remembered being in a conversation with David, seeing us coming back, and ending the conversation. “Do you remember what we were talking about?” David asked.

For some reason, Ben blushed. “I do, but I don't feel comfortable sharing here.”

“No, that's okay, I just wanted to know what you remember. Do you remember going to dance with each other after we met back up?”

Ben and I looked at each other, and we both shook our heads.

“Okay, so let's go from there. When you ladies got back to the table, we all had one more drink, and then a really good song came on. Ben, you grabbed Jennifer enthusiastically, and headed toward the dance floor. Viv and I were right behind you. We could see you dancing as we did, for a few songs, and then when a slow song came on, you started dancing oddly. You weren't actually _dancing_ , but more just hanging on each other.”

“It looked like you were about to start making out or something,” said Viv, almost accusingly.

“Yes, but that wasn't it in the end, was it?” David said, somewhat sharply, and I wondered what that was all about. “You did that for the whole slow song, and continued to when another song, a fast one this time, came on. I was just about to head over to you to see if you were okay, when you put your arms around each other and went out of the room. I could see that you sat on one of the couches in the little alcoves just outside the room where the band was playing. It really did look like you wanted some private time,” he admitted, and grinned, before becoming serious again.

“I don't remember _any_ of this,” I said, frustrated. “Usually if I don't remember something, I do once somebody reminds me, but this is like a black hole.”

“There's a good reason for that, ma'am,” the police officer spoke up. “But I'm enjoying David's telling of the events, so let's let him continue.”

I thought it rather presumptuous for her to decide how my story should spool out, but I let it go. I felt far more fear than anger, and just wanted to hear what had happened to me and Ben.

“After that,” Melissa continued the tale, “Elaine and I caught sight of you. We thought you were making out, because you were kind of hanging on each other, so we glanced away, wanting to give you your privacy.”

“Yeah, in the middle of the packed club,” Vivienne giggled.

“Well, yeah,” said Melissa. “But we were curious, so we kept peeking at you, and were starting to get worried, when four women came up to you. One of them helped you stand up, Jennifer, and seemed to lead you off toward the bathroom. They looked like they were being helpful, so Elaine and I just watched. The other three women were kind of surrounding Ben, and then we assumed they were fans, trying to get an autograph or just talk to him. But they were kind of weirdly close to him, and then the fourth woman came back without you.”

“We should have asked for help sooner,” Elaine said in a miserable (but still beautifully musical) voice.

“We really should have,” agreed Melissa, and started crying again. “David, you tell the rest.” Elaine put her arm around Melissa, who leaned her head on Elaine's shoulder.

“Well, the women became so closely grouped around Ben that finally Melissa and Elaine got suspicious, especially since the fourth woman had returned without you, Jennifer, and you were nowhere in sight. So they grabbed a security guard's attention, and said they thought something suspicious was going on. And they turned out to be right. When the security guard came closer, she saw that Ben was completely passed out, and that the women were, well, molesting him.”

“Molesting me?” Ben said, voice cracking in alarm.

“Yes, um, orally molesting you,” David said, and blushed a bit. 

“What the _fuck_!” Ben yelled. He extracted his arm from around my shoulders, and used both hands to cover his groin area. “Are you fucking kidding me? How is that even possible if I was passed out?”

“I don't know, mate, but you know, plenty of times when you're sleeping...” he trailed off to let Ben understand him, and was blushing harder than ever. “Anyway, the security guard called for backup, and they took away the four women – “

“Wait, what about me?” asked Ben. “They just left me hanging out for all to see?”

“No, no,” Melissa interjected. “The first guard got you put back together. I don't think anybody but the women molesting you and that one guard actually saw anything.”

“Oh, lord, please, _please_ tell me there are no photos,” Ben begged. He was answered with silence, and groaned, holding his groin more tightly. This time, I put my arm around his shoulders in comfort, or protection, or whatever.

“Wait, where was I when all this was happening?” I asked.

“You were stuffed ungraciously into a stall in the loo,” David answered. “That's what the woman who led you away did. You must have been passed out by the time she got you in there, and as the stalls are not very open, nobody noticed that you were in there until we got security to go and look for you.” 

“I wanted to look for you myself,” interrupted Melissa, “but they wouldn't let me.” I appreciated her letting me know that she had tried to be the most helpful to me.

“Wait, so how did we end up in the hospital? Who were these women? Have they been arrested at least?”

The police officer spoke up. “They are a group of women who have been stalking Benedict for quite some time, based on their freaky ass apartment. David told us about what you heard in the loo at the charity event last weekend, and these were those same women. They had been stalking Benedict for what must have been months at least, and you since last weekend. They have thousands of pictures of him, most taken with him being completely unaware, hanging all over the apartment. But more freaky than that, they have charts and schedules and calendars, showing where he goes, when, and with whom. There's a whole section devoted to you, Jennifer, and you should be glad they are behind bars, because they have learned who you are, where you're from – quite a bit about you.”

I gasped, and doubled over, feeling the urge to vomit. Ben forgot his privates, and wrapped both arms around me. “Oh, Jennifer, I'm so so sorry. I'm so sorry I got you into this. Oh, my God, I'm so sorry.”

I snuggled into Ben's chest a little as he rocked me and apologized over and over, and then I sat up again. Ben kept his arms around me. “But I don't get why we don't remember any of this,” I said.

“You were drugged,” said the police officer. “A common date rape drug was found in your blood, both of you. And these idiots are falling all over themselves to implicate each other, confessing to what they did in order to make each other look worse. They're handing over confessions, evidence, and everything we need for a strong case. The drug was found in one of their purses, the one that seems to be the leader. I think she might get sectioned; she's a nut case, pure and simple. Seems to believe Ben is in love with her, and being unfaithful to her with Jennifer here.”

“We were drugged?” I asked. “Drugged, like in a fucking Law & Order episode?” My mind was reeling. I was glad for Ben's arms holding me up, because I felt like I would fall off the bed, through the floor, and just keep falling into oblivion. I had seen so many cop shows like Law & Order and Criminal Minds that the concept of what happened was not foreign to me, but to have it _actually_ happen was more shocking than I could imagine. I slumped against Ben's chest and began to cry.

The police officer asked us a few questions, but as we remembered absolutely nothing, she didn't stay much longer. Our four friends sat in chairs arranged around our bed, as I cried softly into Ben's chest, and Melissa cried onto Elaine's shoulder. We were very subdued.

After a few minutes, Ben announced, “I want to get home and take a shower. God, did they wash me at all?”

“Aye, they did, mate,” David assured him. “They had to take DNA samples, and then washed you up.”

“Still, I feel disgusting and filthy. When can we get out of here?”

David went to find a doctor or somebody who could give us permission to leave, and we all continued to sit still, waiting. It took about an hour, but finally we were released after being given instructions for what to do if the drug somehow recycled and started affecting us weirdly.

As the car drove toward the Dorchester to drop us off first, Ben said, “Jennifer, I can't stand to leave you alone right now. Do you mind if I stay in your suite while you get changed, and then you can come with me to my flat while I get changed? I fear having you out of my reach right now.”

I thought that was sweet, and agreed. “But you're going to have me out of your sight pretty soon,” I said, “because I am leaving London as soon as possible.”


	17. Leaving London?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer has a difficult decision to make. Ben helps her to make it. We know how that turns out then, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for all the nice comments you've been leaving. Some have even had an effect on what I wrote - one scene was extended a great deal based on what somebody wrote. You're helping me write the story! And inspiring me, because I'll be honest - it's like a story high each time someone comments on the story. So thanks!! Keep enjoying.

“Leaving London?” Ben asked, sounding alarmed. “Why would you do that?”

“ _Why_?” I asked, getting a little heated. “Oh, I don't know, maybe because I've been followed around all week by poo-flinging, drink-drugging, friend-molesting psychopaths who left me stuffed in a toilet while I was passed out and helpless, maybe _that's_ why!” I was proud of myself for not sputtering as I normally did when upset.

“But Jennifer, you are now actually safer than you've been since your arrival in town,” Ben calmly explained. “The women who were out to harm you are now safely behind bars. There's no reason for you to go.” He leaned close and whispered directly in my ear, “You can't cut Melissa's vacation short, love, it just wouldn't be fair.” 

I looked across the car at Melissa and Elaine. Melissa was trying to keep a straight face, but I could see the near panic in her eyes. I knew she was depending on another week with Elaine, a week in which they could be more certain than they already were that they wanted to stay together and make a go at a serious relationship. I didn't want to be the one to ruin that.

“But Ben, you don't understand.”

“Oh, _don't_ I?” he asked. “I think if anybody could understand, it would be me.”

“I don't mean about having this happen. I mean – this isn't reality for me, Ben. This trip, it's a dream, it's another world, and now it's also a nightmare. If I go home, I'm back to the real world, and I can just forget all this.”

“Okay, I see what you mean. But what happened last night isn't all you would be forgetting, Jennifer. Don't you think there's some other things worth remembering?”

I thought of Wednesday evening, of David's kiss. Then I looked at Ben and thought of all the time we had spent together. I wouldn't want to forget either David _or_ Ben. But that was silly, it's not like I would _actually_ forget; I would just be able to put it all back in its proper place – a fantasy vacation that had nothing to do with real life.

“Jennifer, please, don't go,” Ben said. “I'll beg you if I have to. I want you to leave London loving it and wanting more. If you go now, you'll hate it forever and have only this one horrible memory to remind you. If you stay, I promise, you will only remember good things when you think of London. I swear.”

I looked again at Melissa, who was trying to pretend that she wasn't hanging on our every word. I looked at Ben, who looked so hopeful and desperate to prove the beauty of his beloved city. I sighed. “Okay, okay, staying in London,” I said, caving in. I hoped I would be able to build up some more great memories to cancel out the one horrible event.

** ** ** **

After my shower, I dressed in comfortable jeans and a soft, snuggly sweater (which Ben called a jumper). I didn't care about looking gorgeous today; I just wanted to feel cozy and safe. But Ben's appreciative regard told me I was looking just fine. I wasn't sure he had really wanted me to go to his flat – that crossed a great line of privacy, for somebody in his position – but Ben insisted, and I agreed after Melissa assured me she didn't mind. Vivienne looked like she minded a little, but she was gracious. She probably felt jealous, but I knew this wasn't some romantic gesture or indication of Ben's liking me especially, but rather his need to keep his eye on me because he blamed himself for the incident at the night club.

Ben's flat was near Hampstead Heath, north of where we were at the Dorchester. It was only a few miles away, but it felt almost like going out into the country; the Heath was so vast and green. “Wow, you live in a gorgeous neighborhood,” I gushed.

“I like it. I spend a lot of time in the park, actually, and when it's warm I go swimming there quite a bit.”

“It's weird how often you seem to be in London,” I said. “I would think with as busy as your career seems to be, you would always be away.”

“It's true I've been away more this past year than usual, but this is still home. I spend as much time as I can here. I have friends who live nearby, people completely out of the acting business, as well as other actors, and we spend as much time as we can together. One of my best friends is actually Martin Freeman, who I work with on Sherlock and on The Hobbit movie that's coming out soon. His partner Amanda is brilliant, and I love hanging out with them. Amanda is always setting me up with women she runs across. It's her goal to get me married and having babies as soon as possible.”

I smiled. “I know a girl you can get together with right now if you want,” I teased.

I was taken aback by the look of shock and desire on Ben's face. He must be really desperate to get married, I thought. He quickly masked it, and said, in a teasing voice, “Oh, and who would that be?”

I realized he thought I was flirting and talking about myself, so I hurried to explain. “Vivienne,” I said. “She's mad about you. And she's gorgeous and classy and – “

“And scares the hell out of me,” Ben interrupted.

“She what?” I asked incredulously.

“She scares the hell out of me. When she looks at me, I feel like prey, not like a friend at all. She's incredibly aggressive. When I let you and David go up after dinner the other night, she practically attacked me. I was sitting at the table, trying to have a nice conversation with her, and she stood up from her chair, sat in my lap, and attempted to kiss me, right in the middle of my talking! I didn't know what to do. Although I know women are attracted to me for some reason, I never had one actually attack me before.” He grew quiet, undoubtedly realizing as I did that that was no longer true in any sense.

“Is it worth it?” I asked him.

“What?” he said, pulling out of the slight daze he had just gone into.

“Is it worth it to do what you do? Worth all the craziness and stalking and being leched after by half the women on the planet? Women who don't even know you, but want some image they have of you? But they attach that image to the real you and, I don't know, even come and attack you?”

“Believe it or not, it really is. I've had my weird issues, yes. There was once a lady set up so she could observe me in my flat. She had spy equipment like James Bond, and she tweeted _everything_ I did. I mean everything. And I had a girlfriend at the time, so some of _everything_ got quite embarrassing. She even tweeted when I went to the loo. The police finally caught her, and wherever she is now is probably where these other freaky ass women are headed.

“But it's still worth it. Because most of the fans are kind and generous, and love me because I do a good job. And I love my work. I've considered other lines of work; at one point I thought I'd study to be a barrister. But in the end, acting is all I really wanted to do. And my dad, he's an actor too, both him and Mum, and the first time he saw me act at my drama school, he said I was better than he ever was, and in that moment, I knew I'd be an actor professionally. And I love it. Nothing could be more fun.

“So if occasionally I have to deal with stuff like this, it _is_ worth it. I would be happier not to deal with this shit, but if there were a choice of not acting and being free of it, or acting and dealing with it, I'd choose acting every time. But I hate having _you_ have to deal with that, and for that I can't tell you how sorry I am.”

I remained silent, thinking this through. “Well?” Ben asked, “Do you think I'm crazy?”

“Not at all,” I answered. “I have been thinking of you as 'a famous guy' all this time, but I just realized something. You're not 'a famous guy,' you're a guy who works hard doing what he loves, and who is now hugely recognized and appreciated because of it. Fame is just the side effect of your work.”

“Well, isn't that obvious?” asked Ben, smiling.

“No,it's not. Think about Bieber.”

“I'd rather not.”

“No, I mean, I looked at you kind of like him. What a bitch I've been. I haven't even considered that you are a dedicated professional who doesn't live for fame, but lives for his work. It's a totally different perspective.”

The car pulled up to a lovely building, with a door man and everything, and Ben escorted me into his home. It was much more beautiful and comfortable than I had imagined. I'd imagined some sort of super-smooth bachelor pad, like Barney's on “How I Met Your Mother,” all black and sleek. But it was much more of a comfortable abode. The entryway was large, with a coat rack and a piece of carpet for shoes. I took off my tennies and lined them up neatly with about five pairs of Ben's shoes, and one pair of really nice boots. 

He led me into the flat, which was wide open, with high ceilings and a gorgeous view of the park, and London beyond that, out of the floor-to-ceiling window that was the focal point of the open area. There were three homey looking groupings of upholstered and leather chairs, love seats, and sofas, with lots of end tables for setting drinks on while chatting companionably with friends. This looked like a home made for entertaining, and in a quiet, comfortable, friendly manner, as opposed to what I considered fancy Hollywood parties to be like. I reminded myself that London was not Hollywood. But I believed the difference between my expectations and this reality was Ben, not London.

“Wow,” I gushed, “this is amazing. I feel like I could come here anytime and curl up with a book and a cup of coffee – “ Ben kind of grunted. “What?” I asked.

“You're in London. You really should curl up with a cuppa tea,” he said, and I wasn't sure if he was serious.

So I laughed. “Okay, okay, I'll curl up with a _cuppa _tea then,” I promised.__

“And as for the book,” Ben said, and took my hand. He led me to an archway at the opposite end of the large, open room, and into – a library! A _huge_ library, with shelves that soared nearly to the high ceilings, covering nearly all of the wall space. The room wasn't as large as the previous room, but it wasn't small. And in the center of this room were more chairs, even more plush and cozy than the other ones.

I gazed longingly at all the shelves. “This is amazing,” I gushed again. Gushing was my modus operandi at Ben's home, apparently. “I have a library in my new house, but it's _nothing_ like this.”

“You have a library?” Ben asked curiously.

“Of course, that was my first requirement when I had my new home built after I won the lottery,” I said. “I'm – haven't I mentioned – I'm a voracious reader. It's one of my goals in life to read everything good that's ever been written, and a good sampling of the crap, too.”

Ben laughed. “Well, a love of reading is something we definitely share, though I don't have nearly as much time to read as I want.”

“But when you want to...” I said trailing off, gazing around at all the shelves. I went to the nearest one, and found a complete, gorgeously leather-bound set of Dickens' works. “Oh, Dickens is one of my favorite authors!” I exclaimed.

“Mine, too,” said Ben. “I think that's required of all British people.”

“Required of all people who appreciate great literature,” I added.

“And what's funny about that is, he wasn't even writing great literature when he wrote these stories; he was just serializing them for the every-day guy on the street.”

"Yes,” I agreed, “that's why I can defend my love of Stephen King. Today's popular fiction is tomorrow's great literature.”

“Oh, I love Stephen King!” Ben exclaimed. “I should use my fame to get us a chance to meet him.”

I laughed. “You and David are _both_ shameless,” I pointed out.

“Well, as you've seen, there are downfalls to having this fame thrust on me, so I might as well also take the advantages. In fact, can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“I mean, it's a really big secret; you can't tell even Melissa. It's about my work. One of the funnest things I've done, but it's not public yet.”

“What? What?” I asked impatiently.

“Okay, I'm going to be on Sesame Street! I've already done it, but the new shows don't come out until early next year.”

I squealed. “Sesame Street! That's like – you really _are_ important if you're on Sesame Street. Congratulations!” I flung my arms around Ben's neck and hugged him.

“Thank you, thanks,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. I pulled back, and he said, “Well, I need to get my shower and get dressed. I believe I can safely leave you here to peruse my library so you won't be lonely while I'm gone?”

“I won't even notice you're gone,” I said.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Just keepin' ya humble, Mr Benedict Cumberbatch.”


	18. My London Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben makes Jennifer an offer she can't refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patience, faithful readers - they are developing a closeness but let's not be too speedy about it. :)

I assumed we would head back to the Dorchester as soon as Ben was dressed, but he didn't seem to be in any hurry. I had pulled down one of the Dickens books, and was reading _A Cricket on the Hearth_ when Ben entered wearing fresh clothes and sporting damp, curly hair. He sat down next to me and looked at what I was reading. “I should have known it'd be Dickens,” he said.

“I didn't have time to read a whole book, so I picked out one of my favorite short stories.”

“We can stay long enough for you to finish it,” he said. He went to a small table amidst the chairs and picked up a book with a bookmark sticking out of it. “I've been reading _Wolf Hall_ in my spare time, what little there is. I'll just read while you finish your story.”

I nodded and mumbled assent, as I was already back into my story. A short time later, I finished and looked up to see how Ben was doing. He looked very serious, so I began reading the next story in the collection, and before I knew it, over an hour had passed by. 

More time would have gone by if Ben hadn't looked up and remarked on the time. “Oh, my, it's getting late,” he said. “I'm sorry; I lose all concept of time when I'm reading. Did you need to be anywhere? Did you have plans for tonight?”

Melissa, Elaine, Viv, and I actually did not have specific plans for tonight, but we had planned on doing something. We were going to wing it. It was now 5 pm, and I figured nobody was too worried about me, or they would have called. As I was thinking this, my stomach growled loudly in the silent room.

“Well, I know what's next on our to-do list,” Ben said, chuckling.

“Don't you have plans for this evening?” I asked.

“I did have plans to hang out with a couple of blokes, but I canceled them before taking my shower. I just don't feel up to a night on the town. We were going to play darts at a pub in Soho. If you don't have plans, would you like to stay in with me? We could play darts here, or watch movies, or both?”

“I have to find out what Melissa and everyone is doing first,” I said, and went to the next room to make the call.

It turned out that Melissa and Elaine were going on a double-date with Vivienne and a guy she had met at the Camden Market. I had Melissa fill me in on that (32 years old, very handsome, worked in renewable energy, and had already called Viv every day since they met), and told Ben I was free for the evening.

“Lovely,” he said. “I don't have a lot of groceries, and we've been eating fancy all week, so how about I just order in a pizza and we can have some wine. I have a good collection.”

“I'm a total idiot about wine, so really, whatever you've suggested so far has been wonderful. I trust your judgment.”

“We must have a little celebration. This is the one week anniversary of the day I met you.” Ben smiled endearingly at me. “I can't believe it's been such a short time. As far as I'm concerned, you're already part of my life.”

I just smiled at Ben, because although I felt the same way, it was all more like a dream to me. I figured I'd wake up back to real life when I returned home to Minnesota. I believed what Ben said about staying friends once I left, but I didn't _feel_ the permanence yet. If he really stayed in touch, I supposed I'd get used to having one of the world's most famous actors as my friend, but that would probably take awhile.

As we waited for the pizza, Ben asked about my plans for the remaining week of my visit. “Melissa and I had planned on doing all kinds of tourist stuff,” I said. “There's so much we haven't seen yet. But I think things may have changed now with her being so into Elaine. And if Viv has this new fellow, I'll just be the fifth wheel. Course, he probably has to work and all...” I trailed off, worrying that my second week in London was going to seem pretty boring compared to my first week.

“I have an offer for you,” said Ben. “And I called Melissa after ordering the pizza, and she was totally cool with you taking me up on it. Let me be your guide for the coming week.”

“Don't you have work, though?” I asked.

“I have three work events,” Ben answered. “Two of which I want you to come to with me.”

“Umm, like to a movie set? I don't know, that sounds kind of...”

“No, no, I'm not filming currently. I have an interview and photo shoot on Monday. I'd like you to come to that with me. I'll introduce you to some people you'll probably recognize. Then on Thursday night, I have an awards dinner to go to. I definitely want you to come to that with me. The other thing I have is a voice-over, and that's tedious and you don't want to come with me to that. You'd just have to sit in a chair and be quiet for a couple of hours. All the rest of the week, I am entirely free. What do you say?”

The first thing I felt as Ben revealed his plan for me was hurt that Melissa could so easily give up my company for the entire week. Then I felt foolish, because Melissa had had my company more or less regularly for the past 20 years, and who was I to intrude when she was enjoying her new love? And who was to say that some of Ben's plans didn't include them, anyway. 

Then I felt a little irritated at Ben attempting to control my entire stay. I almost said something about that; I was getting myself worked up to when I realized that the idea of spending the whole week with Ben sounded fun. I had been having a great time with him all week; why would I want to stop now? And wouldn't having my schedule planned by him leave me more time to just enjoy my vacation? 

Ben had begun to look nervous as I ran all this through in my head, but finally I smiled and said, “I'll take you up on your offer, Benedict Cumberbatch. I will make all the women of the world terribly jealous of me and spend the whole week with you. But I warn you, you may get sick of me.”

“Not in just one little week,” Ben teased. “I'm sure it would take two or three weeks to _actually_ get sick of you.” I laughed and shoved him playfully in the shoulder.

Just then our pizza arrived, and Ben took it, and me, into his dining room. There was a very formal-looking table with ten chairs around it, and Ben frowned. “Nope, this doesn't seem the right place for this. Let's go downstairs.”

I was surprised the flat had a downstairs. Apartments in America generally had only one floor. This was more like a townhouse, I supposed. But downstairs, Ben had a setup that looked almost just like a pub. There was a bar, with a huge wine rack, and other liquor bottles lined up on shelves next to the wine. There were tables and chairs set out like they would be in a pub, and true to Ben's word, there were dartboards. Five, to be exact.

Ben saw what I was looking at and smiled. “Sometimes I have parties and we play darts,” he explained. “I'm really good. I'd love to play you, but I'll shoot with my left hand as a handicap so you have a chance of, I don't know, scoring at least half as much as I do.”

So we ate pizza, drank wine, and played darts. I didn't score anywhere _near_ half as much as Ben, even though he was playing with his left hand, but I had a great time. When we had finally tired of darts, Ben led me into a room just down the hall. It was an actual theatre, in his house! There were chairs that were more like La-Z-Boys than theatre seats. I counted 30 of them. “I really like entertaining,” Ben explained. “What should we watch?”

“I have no idea what you've got, so how about you choose? Make it something of yours, though. All I've ever seen you in is Sherlock.”

Ben groaned. “I'm torn,” he said. “I do want you to see more of my acting. Maybe you'll even become a _fan_ one day. But I don't necessarily want to be with you when you do see it.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because I'll be heartbroken if you don't like it,” he answered simply.

“Then show me something really good.” 

We watched _Star Trek: Into Darkness_ , and it was actually very good. I was by no means a Trekkie, but the story was easy enough to follow, and it was kind of a thrill to see Ben up on the big screen while he was sitting right next to me. I kept looking over at him when Khan was on screen. It was a bit eery.

The lights came on automatically when the movie was over, and Ben turned to me. “Well, what did you think?” he asked tentatively.

“I think Khan had a damn good reason to be angry,” I said. “It's hard to picture him as the bad guy with you being my friend.” Ben laughed hard at this. “What?” I asked self-consciously.

“Nothing, no, it's just the same thing my family and friends all say,” he said, getting himself back under control. “Nobody who knows me considers Khan a real villain. Trekkies are upset that a white Brit played Khan, 'cause he's apparently supposed to be Indian, so they definitely see _me_ as the villain; but my family, and my friends, they just see _me_ and consider me the anti-hero. It's discussed more than you would believe in social media and all over the internet. And you feel the exact same way as my best friends and family. I love it.”

I didn't know what to say to this, because I wasn't sure what point he was trying to make. We had drunk a few glasses of wine each during the movie, so I thought maybe he was rambling because he was tipsy. But he wasn't anything like he had been Thursday night, thank God. That would have been uncomfortable being alone in his house. He had been kind of overly-flirty that night.

“Well, I suppose I should get you home,” he said, looking at his phone to see the time. “Melissa will worry I've gone and kidnapped you.”

“Yeah, I don't think Melissa's doing too much worrying about where I am,” I said wryly, and Ben laughed.

“True, she does seem plenty occupied. But I actually want to get back to your hotel in time to see this bloke Vivienne's met. My guess is they all went out and are now back having a few drinks in your suite.”

That sounded like a great idea, so we cleaned up what little mess we had made and headed back to the Dorchester.

** ** ** **

As luck would have it, we walked in on the four of them chatting merrily away in the main sitting room, and we got to meet Lloyd, the environmental engineer from Stoke Newington. I had no idea what Stoke Newington was, but he sounded impressed enough with himself when he said it that I figured it must be a nice neighborhood.

Lloyd gaped at Ben the whole time he was there, which is probably why Ben left after only one polite drink and a little conversation. He led me outside the door with him as he left. “I'm sorry I can't stay,” he said, “but that bloke is giving me the creeps. He seems nice enough, but some people just act so weird around me. I'm used to that staring thing when I'm in 'famous' mode, but not when I'm just trying to have a relaxing evening with friends.”

“I'm sorry,” I said. “But it is getting kind of late, so maybe it's for the best. Do we have anything going on tomorrow, my _London Guide_?”

“Are you Catholic?” Ben asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Umm, no, Lutheran actually.”

“I'm Protestant also, but let's go to Choral Mattins at St Paul's Cathedral tomorrow anyway. I've heard it's a beautiful service, and you absolutely must go to St Paul's at least once while you're in London.”

I agreed, and Ben said he'd be there to pick me up at 9:15; the service started at 10:15 and we'd want to get there a bit early and look around. “By the time service is over, I'll have the rest of the day planned,” he promised, and kissed my cheek good bye.

When I went back into the room, Melissa and Vivienne started giggling at me, and soon Elaine joined in.

“What?” I asked.

“Oh, honey, if you don't know,” Melissa giggled. I felt irritated at their attention, and wished them a good night and headed to my bedroom. Silly women. What on earth were they going on about?


	19. Time With Ben

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Ben is Jennifer's guide to London, they do all sorts of interesting things together. And Jennifer has a VERY interesting conversation with some friends of his...some friends you might recognize...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just remember if you see anything that doesn't seem authentic, I'm just making it up. :)
> 
> And for those of you getting impatient...soon grasshopper. Soon.

Service at St Paul's Cathedral was incredible. It wasn't that the service was better than any I'd been to, though the beautiful music made it at least come close, but it was being in St Paul's. I knew some of the history; I knew how it had been all but destroyed in the Blitz, for example, but Ben showed me around to different areas that had particular significance. There were plaques giving detailed information about the history of each section of the church, and the building as a whole. There were also crypts, which were kind of spooky, with their dead priests rotting away just inches from where we stood. But overall, it was a lovely experience.

“So, have you ever played ultimate frisbee?” Ben asked when we stepped back into the unseasonably warm October sunshine.

“Oh, I have, actually,” I said. “A lot, in fact. I play all summer with a bunch of my friends and cousins, every weekend.”

“Seriously! That's awesome, because we are going to play today with some of _my_ friends and even one of my cousins,” Ben answered. 

I immediately got nervous. It was one thing to spend all this time with Ben, but to be introduced to his friends, and even family members, seemed like another kind of thing entirely.

“But won't they think...I mean, I'm...I'll be so...”

Ben sighed, and surprised me with his insight. “No, they will not think you are weird because of how we met. You are a wonderful person and my friend, and if anybody has a problem with it, they can fucking well sod off. And you may be embarrassed for a few minutes, but no longer than that, because I _promise_ you that my friends are cool people who you will absolutely love, and who will absolutely love you.”

“Umm, how did you know what I was trying to say?” I asked.

“I'm getting used to interpreting that gobbledy-gook you go into when you're nervous, I think. For such a short acquaintance, I really do feel like we are old friends by now. I feel like I know you.”

“Well, you know vacation me. This is all just like a dream to me. I'm probably totally different when I'm in my real world.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Ben said, grinning. “You have a very strong personality, and I don't imagine it would change for anybody, anywhere. And I _like_ strong personalities, so shut up.” He must have seen that I was about to object to that term. He really did seem to know me better than our one-week acquaintance warranted.

“So who are all these friends and cousins?” I asked, to change the subject. He began naming and describing fifteen people, and I got totally lost. I'd have to figure out who everybody was once I met them, I guessed.

** ** ** **

I met Ben's friends and played ultimate frisbee with them all in the park at Hampstead Heath, near Ben's flat. Once we got going, I started to recognize each person separately and remember their names. There were nine men and six women, one of which was Ben's cousin, Leslie. She was particularly nice to me, and she, Ben, and I always stayed on the same team. By the time a couple of hours had passed, and we had all worn ourselves out, I was even shouting insults at the other team's members and taking insults back from them. It was a lot of fun.

The majority of the players came with me and Ben back to his flat, and we went down to his bar and had some beers and wine and other drinks. Ben's stereo system was as high-tech as any dance club's, so he played some great music, though everybody was too tired to dance. Ben stayed at my side most of the time, but even when he went around to talk to other people, I felt comfortable, striking up conversations with his cousin Leslie, as well as a few of his other friends. Two guys named Rory and Cliff, who seemed to be a couple, took particular interest in me, asking me questions not only about how I had met Ben, but about where I was from, and how I was enjoying London. I felt entirely comfortable.

People left one by one and in pairs, and by 11 pm, there was only Leslie, a guy named Lawrence, Ben, and me left. “Well,” said Ben, “should we watch a movie? Or do you all want to head home?”

“I say a movie,” said Leslie, who seemed keen to spend a little more time with Lawrence. “And I want to see Despicable Me 2, if you have it.”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” said Ben. I thought it was wonderful that this grown man, with no children, had this kid's movie in his collection.

We watched the movie together, with Lawrence and Leslie sitting in chairs right in front of mine and Ben's. We were in the same chairs we had been in for the Star Trek movies. They were “our chairs” now, it seemed. 

We all laughed so hard during the movie, which was hilarious, and at one point, Ben wrapped his enormous hand around mine. I looked at him, surprised, and he just smiled his lovely u-shaped grin at me, so I let him keep my hand. I wasn't sure if he was flirting with me, or if actors were just this touchy-feely. After all, David had had no problem more or less making out with me, and then going back to being buddies the following day. The following _minute_ , really. So I didn't know quite what to think of Ben's holding my hand.

I did know what to think of Leslie and Lawrence, though. They began making out in front of us during a slight lull in the movie. Ben had made popcorn for us to eat during the movie, and he started throwing it at the couple when they started kissing. “Ben, you twat!” yelled Leslie. 

“Oi!” Ben answered. “I don't want to sit here and watch my little cousin make out. You should have sat behind us if that was your intent.”

“Never mind us and pay attention to your own date, would you?” she shot back, laughing and leaning in to kiss Lawrence again.

Ben looked at me, and I said, “You remember what happens,” as a friendly warning, and he sat back with a sigh, still holding my hand.

** ** ** **

I spent Monday morning hanging out with Melissa, Elaine, Vivienne, and Lloyd, who seemed to have moved into our hotel room with Viv. I realized I was the only one still sleeping alone, but I was okay with that. I had no intention of having some frivolous holiday romance. When someone shared my bed, they would be someone I was in love with and planned on spending the foreseeable future with. In fact, I wouldn't sleep with anybody that I couldn't see as a _potential_ husband. I was 31, and casual relationships no longer sounded fun or adventurous.

Ben had told me to wear a casual dress for the interview, although I didn't know why it mattered what I wore, and I had the perfect dress – okay, I had about 15 perfect dresses, but Melissa helped me pick one out, and I was all ready for him when he picked me up at 11:30. His look of appreciation told me I had chosen well. We spent about half an hour with the others, and this time Lloyd didn't act like such a dick, so Benedict felt much more comfortable. 

He had such a mischievous glint in his eye the whole time, that I remembered he had said something about me meeting people I would recognize. As we left, I asked, “Just who am I going to be meeting today?”

“Oh, I was wondering if you remembered that. Okay, I wanted to surprise you, but maybe I'll just prepare you so you don't feel embarrassed or anything. You're meeting the cast and writers of Sherlock.”

Once again, I kept silent to prevent my inevitable stuttering. Ben just waited, knowing I had to get my mind under control before trying to talk. “You mean, like Martin Freeman, and Mark Gatiss?” I asked. 

“Yes, and Amanda Abbington, who is Martin's partner and plays Mary in the upcoming series. And Loo, she plays Molly; and Rupert, who plays Lestrade; and Steven Moffat and his wife Sue, who is the producer of the whole thing. And Una, who plays Mrs Hudson. And Jon, who plays Anderson. And one other person that you have to be sworn to absolute secrecy about.”

“Okay, who? I'll stuff 'em in my brain along with Sesame Street,” I said, curious.

“Andrew Scott.”

“No way. What? You mean, Sherlock AND Moriarty survived?”

Ben was quiet, thinking. “Moriarty is in Sherlock's mind palace,” he said, which I specifically noted was not a denial of Moriarty's survival. Not an admission, but not a denial. I decided to let him leave it at that. He had responsibilities to the show that superseded my curiosity. That's why I had never thought to ask him how Sherlock had survived his fall, which I was actually very curious about.

We arrived at the BBC offices in London, and Ben got me a pass for the day, so I could come along with him wherever he went. He led me through corridors and up an elevator, and through more corridors, until he opened metal doors into a big, empty room with everything necessary for a photo shoot set up at one end. The crowd standing together near the lights and cameras was straight out of my television! It was all the people I recognized from the BBC show Sherlock; the only way I had known Benedict before I had met him.

As he introduced me to each person, I tried not to gape or act silly, or giggle. I tried to pretend I was meeting a bunch of CEOs or maybe a bunch of waiters from a nice restaurant. Regular people. Not people who had spent hours in my living room entertaining me. When we got to Andrew, he actually surprised me. “Oh, Jennifer, I remember you from the auction. So is this the date that you chose?” he asked.

I began to stutter, and Ben saved me. “No, Andrew, Jennifer and I have actually become good friends. I'm showing her around London as she's on vacation here for another whole week. We're having a great time together.”

“Oh, that's lovely,” said Andrew, not seeming embarrassed by his mistaken assumption. “Ben's as fun a bloke as you could have to show you around the town. Now didn't you have a friend with you? Where is she while you're gallivanting around town with Benedict?”

I grinned. “Oh, she found somebody to spend her time with,” I said, “and she's having even more fun than we are.”

Andrew caught my point and winked. “The week's not over yet,” he said suggestively, and I felt myself blushing. 

Each person Ben introduced me to hugged me instead of just shaking my hand, and I realized that the touchy-feely thing was indeed an actor thing. Which meant I didn't have to read anything into the way Ben treated me, which was a relief. I was not going to be seduced by some famous guy, no matter how nice he was.

Each of the people from the show had their own chairs, with their names written on paper attached to the back, and I sat in Ben's chair while the photo-shoot was going on. It took almost two hours, but I wasn't bored at all. They talked and laughed and joked around, and even talked to me while they were doing the photos. The photographer just kept shooting while they posed and while they acted silly. A woman was doing individual interviews with whoever wasn't currently in the shots, and I got to eavesdrop on some fascinating discussions.

When they were just about done with the final group shots, Ben came over and grabbed my hand. “Oi,” he said, “let's get some good pictures for Jennifer to remember her trip with.” And suddenly I was in a bunch of pictures with the whole group from Sherlock! At the very end, Ben said everybody else could leave, and had the photographer take a few pictures of just him and me. He said he wanted some pictures from our time together, too.

“Ben, I've been taking pictures on my phone nonstop,” I protested.

“Yes, and I'm sure they are very good, but probably not frameable, and I'm going to put the best of these photos up in my library, where I'll be most likely to think of you while you're away.”

The photo shoot was not the end of the day with the group, though. Apparently, Mark had made reservations for all of us at The Waterway, a restaurant in walking distance from the studios. So we headed over there, and on the way out, we ran into David Tennant, who was at the studios on some business. “Oh, hello,” he said, giving a few of us hugs, including me. “So you two are still together,” he said, shaking Ben's hand. “That's spectacular. You could do worse, mate.” David headed into the building we had just left, and we went on our way to the restaurant. I tried to act nonchalant about it, but I was amazed to just casually run into David like that!

At the restaurant, we had a large table in a quiet corner (well, it had been quiet until we got there), and I sat between Ben and Amanda. Loo sat on the other side of Ben and spent a lot of time leaned forward past him to talk to me. She was so smiley and chatty, and I reminded myself that actors were not necessarily like the characters they played. 

Once the meal came, Loo settled into conversation with Ben, and Amanda gave me what I could politely call the third degree. She asked about the night I met Ben, the time we had spent together, what our relationship was exactly, and whether I was dating anybody back home. She got more personal about my dating history, and finally I had to protest. “Amanda, Ben told me you are the one always trying to set him up with women. Believe me, I'm not a threat to anybody you have in mind for him. We're just friends. I didn't come to London to be seduced by some famous actor, believe me.”

Amanda was silent for the first time since we had started talking. “Threat?” she asked. “God, girl, you are just as clueless as can be. Are they that naïve in Minnesota? That boy is _crazy_ about you, and you better snatch him up while you can. He's the best catch you'll find on _any_ of the seven continents.”

I could feel myself gaping at Amanda. Air flowing in and out of my silent mouth. Not even garble coming out; just stunned silence.

Amanda laughed heartily. “Oh, you really _didn't_ know!” she exclaimed. She nudged Martin, who was sitting next to her, and drew him in close to her to talk in a low voice. “Martin,” she said, practically in a whisper, “tell me what you think Benedict thinks of our Jennifer here.”

“Head over heels,” Martin said immediately, and grinned. “Why, doesn't she think so?”

“I don't know what she _thinks_ , but she doesn't _know_. She _really_ doesn't. Should we have him tell her?” She started to reach over to get Ben's attention, but Martin grabbed her hand.

“No, now, don't go embarrassing her. If he hasn't let her know, that's his business.” He looked at me. “But we've set Ben up with dozens of girls, and he's never looked at them the way he looks at you. Not even if they've gone on a couple of dates. Hell, not even if they've shagged. He likes you a lot, I can guarantee it.”

I suddenly wished I was back in my hotel room alone. I wanted time to _think_. To think about the things Benedict had said and done. The way he had held my hand numerous times. The way he kept joking about kissing me. What if he wasn't joking? My head swirled with the possibility, and I tried to wipe away the defensiveness I had felt about him from the moment we had met. Could he seriously be interested in me in that way?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad I went over this chapter once more before I posted it. I found that the whole time Martin and Amanda were talking to Jennifer at the dinner, I had typed "John" instead of "Martin". hahaha!


	20. Hmm, I Wonder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Jennifer spend some time with the whole gang, and Jennifer keeps thinking about what Martin and Amanda said. Was it possible...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting out a second chapter "today" (actually 7 hours after the last one) because you guys are always so nice with your comments and appreciation, and I'm nice and far ahead now and want you go catch up with me.

“So we're all going touring together again today,” Melissa told me as she and Elaine came out of their room, and Elaine headed to the coffee maker. I was grateful for Elaine and her coffee every morning, and was glad Melissa had invited her and Vivienne to stay in our humongous hotel suite with us.

“That's what Ben tells me,” I said. “It's too bad Lloyd has to work.”

“Oh, that is okay,” Elaine said. “Last night after Lloyd left the pub, Vivienne met another man called Robert, and he does not work today, so he will be going with us.” I wondered briefly how Ben would feel about this, but I figured that if I had to get used to what it was like hanging around famous people, then he would just have to get used to what it was like hanging around with regular people. Then I felt stupid, because I knew that the majority of his friends were “regular people” and that he would be just fine.

He arrived at about 10 am, and sat down to have some coffee with us. “Oh, I have a headache after trying to keep up with Martin and Amanda last night,” he said, referring to our rather late evening at a pub with the couple. We hadn't actually drunk all that much, but we _had_ stayed out until 2 am. “We'll have to get some good food and tea – or coffee, if you _must_ – into us so we can hit all the spots I have planned for today.”

“What's on the agenda?” I asked, slightly miffed that he had refused to tell me the previous night.

“It's London Tourism 101,” Ben answered. “We're going to the Tower of London, to the Tower Bridge, to Big Ben and the Elizabeth Tower, and just in case you're getting sick of towers by then, we'll hit the National Gallery, where some of the greatest paintings in the world are currently hanging. They're not actually all at the Louvre, as you French like to think.” He winked at Viv.

Vivienne gave a flirtatious smile at the teasing. I didn't mind her flirting with Ben now, because I knew he wasn't interested in her. Why that made it okay was something I was trying not to think of. I really believed I only liked Ben as a friend. 

Robert turned out to be much more personable than Lloyd had been, though he seemed a bit shiftless. His only employment was part-time work at the pub where Vivienne had met him. But he paid for things like her lunch, so he wasn't a sponger. And he was very funny and interesting to talk with. And most importantly, he took Ben in stride, without the ogling and gaping I remembered from Lloyd's first experience hanging out with us.

It was a busy day, and I learned a lot, mostly from Ben. He was so proud of his city and all its attractions, and it really came across in his presentations. Which is what they were – I felt almost sure that he had boned up on his knowledge of all things London in order to provide us with the best possible information on our tours. 

Probably the most surprising thing I learned was about Big Ben. Apparently, that was not actually the name of the clock, as I had always assumed. It was the name of the biggest bell inside the tower. Melissa was as surprised as me, though Viv and Elaine had apparently already known, as had Robert, of course. Vivienne made a suggestive joke about “Big” Ben, which had us all chuckling nervously, and Ben blushing down to his collar. I didn't feel like it was appropriate to make that kind of a joke after what had happened to him just a few nights ago. I gave Ben's hand a protective squeeze, and he looked down into my eyes with a grateful smile. I was pretty sure he knew what I was thinking about.

Because I was only interested in Ben as a friend, it was okay the way he took ownership of my hand throughout the rest of the day. Everywhere we walked, he was holding my hand. And when we stopped walking, he tended to turn his beautiful kaleidoscope eyes on me, and smile in that gorgeously friendly way he had. I kept wondering if Martin and Amanda had been right about the way he felt about me. 

I tried to push that out of my mind though, and finally made a deal with myself. I would not encourage Ben to make any declarations of affection during this trip. Then, if he actually did stay in touch once I went home, I would entertain the thought of possibly looking at him in a way stronger than friendship – if that was what he wanted. I could see the benefit of dating a man who had no reason to want to use me for my money, and Ben was obviously such a man. And I really did like him, so...

So having made that decision, I put the whole thing out of my head and enjoyed our day as London Tourists, 101. Ben revealed another surprising thing while we were at the National Gallery. “I actually used to paint, when I was young,” he said. “My mum still has some of the oil paintings I did around the house. They're atrocious, but she's very proud of them.”

“You are a very multi-talented man, Benedict,” I said, flirting heavily with him.

He grinned at me. “I really am, you know,” he said, possibly suggestively, and I decided not to flirt with him any more.

** ** ** **

Wednesday morning, Ben came to pick me up an hour before he had said he would be there. I was still lounging around with the girls in my pajamas, which were kind of skimpy – just thin shorts and a thin tank top, with no bra. The others were similarly dressed, so when we saw it was Ben at the door, we all scampered to our rooms to change into more sociable clothing.

I came back out first. Ben grinned at me. “I see no reason why you all had to go do that,” he said. “It was looking like a very nice morning for me for a moment there.”

I tossed one of our small pillows at him. “Pervert,” I joked. “Why are you here so early, anyway?”

“Because we have to go down to the police station,” Ben answered. “They want to question us further, to see if we've remembered anything, and they have information regarding things they've discovered since Saturday morning.”

I sat down, my legs feeling suddenly like wet noodles unable to hold me up. Ben was instantly at my side, his arm around me. “Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

“I'm...I don't...why do...it seems like...I don't remember anything! Why can't we just put this behind us and be done with it? You said you were going to help me forget all about it, and now we have to go deal with it some _more_?” I was practically shouting by the time I'd finished talking, but Ben didn't get angry.

“Shh, shh,” he said, hugging me close. “I know, it's not fair, we shouldn't have to do this. But I'm hoping they'll have good news for us. Like that those women will be gone for a long time. And so far, my publicist tells me there have been no pictures posted online that she or her assistant could find, so I'm hoping to hear that no photos were taken, or at least none were uploaded.”

I thought about Ben. Obviously, this incident had been and still could be much more harmful to him than to me. After all, I had only been stuffed in a loo (geez, now I was thinking like my Brits) with a little drug in my system. Ben had been sexually assaulted, violated in a public place and without even any remembrance of it. And if pictures got out, he would have to deal with the incident _very_ publicly. Compared to him, I hadn't gone through anything at all!

“Oh, Ben, I'm so sorry,” I said, and returned his hug. “I'm so selfish, worrying about myself. I'm sure things will work out okay. If nothing has shown up – wait, did you say publicist _and_ her assistant?” I asked, suddenly remembering what Ben had said. “You have people who just look all over the internet to see what's on there about you?”

“Well, yes,” Ben said. “I mean, she does a lot more than just that – a _lot_ more. But after this happened, I had to tell her so she could try to contain any fallout that might occur if pictures had been posted. She's really worried.”

“Oh, it would be so horrible for you,” I said. “Let's get down to the station as soon as possible and find out.” I thought a moment. “No, you know what's really horrible? That you have to think about it that way. You should be able to deal with this like any person would, with how it has affected _you_ , not your damn image. This totally sucks.”

“It's true that I have different concerns because of my status,” Ben said, “but again, my job affects everything in my life, and this is just one more thing. Maybe it'll be helpful to worry about that part of it, and keep my mind off the... the filthy way I feel about it all.” I hugged him tight, feeling awful for him. If I had been raped, which is basically what had happened to Ben, I knew I wouldn't be handling it as well as Ben was. I wondered if that was some kind of front, or if it hadn't really hit him yet, or if he was just that strong. Or perhaps he simply didn't feel the need to share with me his feelings of violation.

It turned out that we only spent fifteen minutes or so at the station, and that although there had been some photos taken with one of their cell phones, the women hadn't had a chance to upload them. The police kept the phone locked up for evidence, but had disconnected its service, so there was no way the pictures could be uploaded, even if one of the officers had wanted to do it. And clearly Ben and I had no further memories of the night, so we were in and out in a very short time.

“Today is the day I do my voice over,” Ben said. “I'm headed there now. Shall I take you back to your hotel first?”

I thought for a moment. “Actually, would you be at all put out if I hung out in your library while you do it? It's been such a crazy time since I've been here; I think I'd like a few hours to myself just to read. I promise I won't dig through your stuff.”

Ben looked surprised. “I never for one moment imagined you digging through my stuff,” he said, sounding slightly offended, “but if you did, it would be fine with me. I have nothing to hide. Anyway, you wouldn't do something so rude. But yes, of course, you can wait for me in my library. My whole flat, actually, is yours to consider your home-away-from-home. And I've gone grocery shopping, in case you feel like feeding yourself.”

“If you have the right ingredients, I'll make us lunch for when you get back,” I said. “I'm sure I'll be able to find something around your gorgeously humongous kitchen.”

Ben agreed, and also wrote down the number for a market near his house that would deliver if I called them up. He said he'd call them on his mobile and give permission for me to order whatever I needed and add it to his tab. “Wow, aren't you fancy?” I asked, and Ben grinned.

** ** ** **

I was surprised when my phone rang. It felt as if I had been reading for only half an hour, but I realized I was almost halfway into the book I was reading. I dazedly grabbed my phone, and saw an unfamiliar British number. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hi, it's me,” said Ben. “I've sent that other phone back to Project Off Streets, so I'll be using this number now. Save it into your phone.”

“You got a new phone?” I asked, still half out of it.

“No, silly, this is _my_ phone number, the one I use all the time.”

“But I didn't think you could give that out to – “

“To whoever I damn well please, like my favorite new person on all the earth?” Ben interrupted. “Jennifer, you're my friend. My friends and I are regular people. I don't hide from them. I don't imagine you'll go putting my number online for millions of fangirls to start calling me, and I don't want you to lose this number, okay?”

“Right, okay. Are you headed back now?” I felt guilty, because I hadn't started to cook anything. I hadn't exactly promised, but had rather implied that I would be making us lunch. Or dinner. Or whatever it was time for. 

And that's exactly the question Ben asked. “So have you started cooking yet?”

“No, I'm sorry, I've been reading _The Lacuna_ , and got totally lost in it.”

“Okay, don't start then, I'm getting some Chinese takeout. I'm starving and don't want to take the time to cook anything. I'll be there in fifteen minutes.”

While we ate the Chinese takeout, Ben told me of his day doing voice overs for a couple of commercials, and some work on one of his upcoming movies. Apparently he had to sometimes read lines over, and they dubbed them into the movie, because for whatever reason, the original sound did not take properly. He'd told me I'd be bored if I had come to this, but I could tell that it wasn't boring for him at all. He fairly glowed when he talked about his work, and I was completely drawn in. I thought it was wonderful to see his great passion for his work, and I wished I had something that filled me with such passion and energy.

When we were done eating, it was time to run back to the Dorchester and pick up Melissa, Elaine, Vivienne, and whichever guy she was bringing out with us tonight (I hoped for Robert). We were going to the pub in Soho that Ben had told me about earlier, and we were going to play darts and get pissed. Which didn't mean angry in England, but drunk. Which I would much prefer over being angry anyway.

** ** ** **

There's one really fun thing about darts if you are playing them with a date who you kind of like, and if he is way better at the game than you. That's the part where he feels a manly desire to _teach_ you how to play. And what's so wonderful about that is all the arms wrapping around you and unnecessary but thoroughly enjoyable closeness of bodies as he tries to aim your arm for you. This was what Ben did with me for a good part of the night, and as we were, in fact, quite pissed, I enjoyed the flirting aspect even more than I normally would have.

“You just have to,” Ben said, with his left arm wrapped around my waist from behind, and his right arm positioned along my right arm, “aim right for the middle. Then when you throw the dart, pretend like you are just pointing your fingers at the spot you want to hit.” He drew my arm back, and threw with me. The dart didn't even land on the dartboard at all, and we collapsed into a fit of rather snuggly giggles.

I caught Melissa looking at us and smiling, and I smiled back. Maybe it was true what Amanda and Martin had said. Or maybe the intoxication was creating a false aura of physical attraction between us. Either way, I knew that I had to keep more sober than Ben, or I would end this evening by doing something I would regret later. I was _not_ going to be taken advantage of by this famous man, even though I was beginning to like him quite a bit. He would have to work harder to convince me that he really liked me than getting me drunk and being all flirty with me. But I kept that determination at the back of my mind while we were at the pub, because I was really enjoying the flirty stuff. 

Vivienne had indeed brought Robert with her, and that turned out to be great fun. Presumably because he worked at a pub, Robert was better at darts than even Ben, and he beat him soundly. The first time or two, Ben just laughed it off, but after that, I could see the competitiveness rise within him. He started betting Robert on each game. Fortunately for Robert, who I assumed didn't have a whole lot of money, Ben continued to lose to him. 

He seemed to be headed toward getting actually angry when I decided to cut him off. “Okay, Ben, that's enough darts, you've lined Robert's pocket well enough. Now how about we dance a little bit?” The pub wasn't a dance club by any description of the term, but it did have a small dance floor, and there were four or five couples dancing. I grabbed Ben's hand and practically dragged him away from the table next to the dart boards.

“Come on, just one more game, I'm just getting into my groove,” he complained, though he came with me, since I yanked him hard enough to pull him off his feet if he didn't.

“Ben, you are horribly competitive,” I remarked. “You're actually getting pissed, aren't you?” 

Ben looked confused. “We're all getting pissed,” he said shaking his head.

I laughed. “No, I mean, you're actually getting angry.”

“Right, Yankee pissed is angry,” Ben said, slurring his words a bit by now. “Yes, I'm getting Yankee pissed. So what?”

We were standing next to the dance floor, but rather than start dancing, we just stood talking. “So _what_? We're out to have fun, not get into a fight with some guy just because he's beating you at darts.”

“I wasn't going to fight him,” Ben said, flinging his arms out wide, and putting a falsely (but adorably) innocent look on his face. “I was going to kick his ass. _At darts_ ,” he clarified.

I laughed again. “But you really weren't,” I informed him. “You were going to lose whatever money you came here with, because he is better than you.”

“He's not.”

“He is. But you're a better dancer, so come on, dance with me.”

Ben was a hilariously energetic dancer when drunk (but still quite good), and we had a great time on the dance floor. The other couples who had been dancing started to dance with more vigor once we got going, and soon we were joined by Melissa and Elaine, and by Vivienne and Robert. 

When a slow song came on, Ben grasped me tightly around my waist and pulled me to him. “You're not getting away this time,” he whispered into my ear, and I remembered how I had scooted off the dance floor at the Ministry of Sound when he had grabbed me like this. Tonight, I capitulated, and wrapped my arms about his neck, and danced a lovely, slow dance with him. “Jennifer,” Ben whispered when the song was nearly over, “you're the only one I want to dance with. Ever.”

I took that as the drunken declaration it was, and just smiled. Drunk or not, I felt pretty damn comfortable dancing with Ben, and only Ben. I wondered again if this vacation friendship had a chance to become something more eventually. The idea pleased me more than I thought it should.

** ** ** **

Hours later, when Ben dropped me off at the door of my hotel, he leaned in to kiss me, really kiss me, and I almost let him. But at the last second, I turned my cheek, which Ben graciously kissed. He was polite enough not to push it any further. 


	21. Biking With Ben

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Jennifer go on a very enlightening bike ride. And I threw a little something in specifically for one of my readers....you'll recognize it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know of no town called Hillford that is near London (or anywhere); I just totally made that up. For anyone who cares.

On Thursday when Ben picked me up, he ordered me to change my clothes. I was wearing a warm woolen dress that I thought was perfect for the weather. “Won't work,” Ben said when I tried to make my case, “we're going bicycling.”

“Really?” I said. I loved biking, but there was one obvious problem. “Umm, I don't actually have a bike in London.”

“Not a problem. My ex-girlfriend left hers with me when she moved out years back, and I've had it all tuned up just for you.”

I was curious to know more about this ex-girlfriend, but Ben seemed to be ready to get moving, so I changed into some sportier clothes, and we took our leave of Melissa and Elaine. Vivienne was not up yet.

The bikes Ben had were a matching his and hers set, and very high quality racing bikes. They were Pearsons, which I knew was an excellent brand, quite expensive. But I would expect nothing less of Ben. He didn't seem very flashy with his money, but I had an idea that his “toys” were things he didn't skimp on.

“We're going to head north out of the city,” he explained, “for about an hour and a half. There's a National Bike Route the whole way, and we can get lunch in the smallish town we'll end up in, and then we can head back. Are you up for that vigorous a ride?”

I laughed. “Oh, please, when I'm home and it's not snowing, I ride about between 150-200 miles a week. Now that I don't work for a living,” I added, explaining how I could spend so much time bike riding.

“I'm a bit jealous,” said Ben. “I miss a lot by working as hard as I do. But I _always_ make some time for the things I love.” He had fitted each bike with a large water bottle, and we hopped on and I took off riding next to Ben. As we rode, he told me some of the other sporting things he liked to do. “I love to ski, and I _love_ to go snowboarding. I want to try rock climbing. I love water skiing, tennis, football – by which I mean _actual_ football, not that barbaric American game you have – and swimming. Really, I'll do just about anything. And of course you know I'm a sky diver. How about you?”

“Of the things you've mentioned, I've done and loved all but snowboarding and rock climbing. I played _soccer_ all through junior high and high school, in fact.” 

Ben laughed. “Too bad we don't have enough time left to get up a good game of football; we could have seen how we pair up.” 

I laughed at our little war of the words, but felt sad a bit, too. My time in London was running out; my time with Ben was running out. And the more time we spent together, the more I liked him. And I was worried that after Saturday, I would never see him again. I had been okay with that idea up until the past couple of days, when I realized I really was counting on Ben's promise to stay friends even after I left. I didn't want to count on that. I could feel imminent heartbreak ahead, and I didn't like it. I hadn't wanted to come to feel this way about Ben, even if I did realize it was more fantasy than reality. 

Ben interrupted my reverie by asking what position I played in _football_ , and we continued most of the ride talking about our sporting adventures through the years. I found another thing Ben had done that I had not – fencing. “Oh, fencing!” I exclaimed when he told me. “That is so _very_ posh.”

“It is not,” Ben said, sounding embarrassed. “All the boys at school did it.”

“Mhm, all the boys at Harrow you mean? Right, what was I thinking, that's not posh at all,” I teased. Ben became quiet after that, and I realized I had hurt his feelings or offended him or something. “Hey, what's wrong?” I asked.

Ben burst out, “I _hate_ people calling me posh. I had some definite advantages growing up, and my family has some stupid ancient nobility in our blood line, but I didn't grow up all _posh_. My parents had to _work_ to send me to that school. We weren't sitting on our arses drinking tea all day; we all work hard. _I_ work hard. I'm not some candy-arsed poncy boy, and I get sick of people saying I am.”

I was shocked at Ben's vehemence, and I realized this must be an issue he had dealt with a lot. “Ben, I'm sorry, I didn't know. I didn't even know people said that about you; I'm really sorry. I promise I'll never say anything like that again.”

“Oh, God, Jennifer, no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that; you weren't to know.”

“You have a bit of a thing about it though, huh?” I asked.

“I really do. But I won't take it out on you; I really am sorry. But just, if you would, please don't joke about it. I can be tetchy about certain things, and that's a big one.”

I wondered what else Ben could be tetchy about, but decided not to ruin what had up to now been a pleasant day by asking him. We rode on in comfortable silence for awhile, and then Ben started to question me about my favorite movies, and we talked about movies for the rest of the way to Hillford, the small town he had mentioned. 

In the middle of the town was an old-fashioned town square with a gazebo and lovely wrought-iron benches, ringed by shops of all sorts including many small mom-n-pop restaurants. Ben had a surprise in store for me. In his bike's saddle bags, where I had assumed he had packed extra water, he had a huge quilted blanket which he laid out on the grass underneath an enormous old oak tree. We found stones large enough to hold down the corners in case the wind came up, and Ben asked me to wait with the bikes while he went to get us lunch.

He came back with a big bag full of fried chicken (I hadn't seen any fried chicken since I'd arrived in England, so I was pleasantly surprised), cole slaw, biscuits, and what he called fizzy drinks. In other words, pop. I thought it was like having KFC right in the middle of England, but changed my tune the first time I took a bite of the delicious chicken. This was home-made food, not mass produced. The cole slaw was so creamy and flavorful, and it had apples and some little nuts in it. The biscuits, which we covered in _real_ butter, were fluffy and tasted like beautiful autumn sunshine. I was in heaven, and ate heartily. Not quite as heartily as Ben, who seemed to be able to put away enough for two or even three men at every meal.

After we had eaten our fill, we sat close together and leaned back against the oak tree. “We're definitely going to have to sit here for awhile,” said Ben, stating the obvious.

“I know. I'm so full I feel like I'll burst.” 

Ben murmured in agreement, and was quiet for a few minutes. I could feel him thinking, though; felt that he had something on his mind to tell me. Just as I started to get nervous from the suspense, he spoke softly. “I have to tell you something,” he said, confirming my suspicion.

“Shoot,” I answered, trying to give my voice a buoyancy I didn't feel.

“Well, it's just, I thought it was totally obvious, but a little birdie told me that it really wasn't, and I – “

I interrupted Ben, understanding now where this was going, and feeling a great relief. “Mm, a little birdie named Amanda, I'm guessing?”

Ben chuckled. “She is a very nosy little bird, believe me. If you tell her to keep a secret point blank, she will, on her life. Other than that, though, everything is fair game. Remember that in your dealings with her, okay?” I nodded. “Well, so you may not be totally surprised at what I want to tell you. Jennifer, this has been about the funnest two weeks of my life. I'm very drawn to you; hell, I'm crazy about you. And we _are_ friends, and no matter what, I intend to stay friends with you, but unless you _actually_ forbid me – maybe you'd even have to slap me – I intend to pursue you romantically as well.”

I sat still and silent. There was no point in my speaking, because we both knew what kind of pointless babble would come out if I did. Ben chuckled as he realized what I was doing, and took advantage to make his case more clearly. “Just so you know, within a couple days of meeting you, I had decided on this. From now until the time that I hope never comes, when you rebuff me completely, I have no interest in any other woman at all. I've got a one-track mind, and I'm focused on you.”

This was a bit much, and I began to protest. 

“No, no, I don't expect you to – I know you're not in the same place right now. I'm not saying I forbid you from dating if you want to. Of course, you can do whatever you want. I'm just letting you know where I'm at. If it takes me a year to convince you, the way I feel now, I'll stay faithful to the idea of you for that whole year. I'm just telling you how I feel. Sorry, you don't have to feel the same way; you just have to deal with it.”

“Ben...I don't...I think I...I probably...I never thought...You're...” I shook my head in frustration and heaved a huge sigh. I felt like a handicapped person. Severe speech disorder.

Ben eased his arm down behind my shoulders, and gently nudged me over until I was leaning back against his chest. “I know,” he said. “Don't worry about it.” He smoothed my wild curls back from my forehead and planted a small kiss on my temple.

After a few minutes of very soothing snuggling with Ben, I was finally able to talk. “I like you, too, Ben,” I said. “I'm pretty sure I like you the same way, though maybe not as intensely. But I have come to a realization that you might be able to appreciate.” Ben raised his eyebrows in question. “I realize that I like the _real_ Benedict Cumberbatch way more than the _fantasy_ David Tennant.”

Ben whooped rather loudly, and threw up the arm that wasn't around me in a triumphant fist. “I'll take it!” he yelled joyously, earning a few looks from passersby, and kissed my temple again. 

I giggled. “Just...the thing about this whole vacation is, it's so outside of my real life. It's like some cheesy romance novel, where the heroine goes off on this romantic vacation, and her Prince Charming takes her away to Never Never Land – “

“You are mixing up your fairy tales really badly,” Ben pointed out.

“Okay, let me make my point though. This vacation is like a total fantasy to me. First the fantasy of meeting and even kissing (here Ben growled a little, making me giggle) the man I've had a fangirl crush on for years. Then I meet this other celebrity, who I didn't even know about really, and what? We just fall in love and ride off into the sunset? But life doesn't work like that. I'm leaving in two days and I don't even know if I'll ever see you again. So, yeah, I feel kinda romantic about you now, and you feel that way about me. But will we by next week, or will it all just seem like a dream? I hope it's real, but until I find out that it is, please don't expect any more from me than this – I'm willing to consider the possibility.”

Ben leaned back against the tree, pulling me back into his chest and wrapping both arms around me. “This is fine,” he said. “I respect you too much to try to seduce you at this point, anyway. I think if I did, I would be less likely to see you, because you'd think I was _that_ kind of arsehole.” He leaned down and kissed me on the spot on my temple that I was starting to think of as his spot. “But if I can just hold you like this a little bit...” He trailed off and squeezed me a little, and we fell into silence again.


	22. The Awards Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer accompanies Ben to their first fancy public event. Jennifer sees Ben with his fans and reacts strongly. Ben feels very protective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here's where I start just totally making stuff up. Until now, I have tried to be true to real things, and just plug Jen and Ben into them. But I needed an awards dinner, so I just totally made one up. No basis in reality, and from this point on, Ben's schedule in the story is one that suits me and has nothing to do with his real life schedule. And I'll be making up other fun stuff about him, so don't go saying, "Oooh, I heard Benedict Cumberbatch is going to be in..." because you read it here. ;) I wouldn't want to start exciting rumors or anything. :)

We got back to Ben's flat just in time to begin getting ready for the awards dinner that night. Ben was up for two awards for his work on a TV miniseries called _Parade's End_. I remembered his telling me a bit about his character on the show, Christopher Tietjens. I wished I had watched it at some point so I'd know what he was being celebrated for. That went on my list of things to do as soon as I got home.

Ben showered and dressed in less than half an hour ( _men_ ), and we were in a car and on our way to the Dorchester. I had already decided what dress I would wear when Ben said that something like what I had worn to dinner the previous Wednesday would do. It was a slinky blue dress with narrow sleeves and a low neck, which left quite a bit of my cleavage visible. I wasn't used to showing any cleavage, so I felt sexy and delicious, but also a bit overexposed. The dress flowed nearly to the ground, and I accessorized it with silver Dolce & Gabbana strappy high heels and the necklace that Ben had bought me. Though it wasn't fine silver, which would have matched very well, I thought it was the perfect accent to the elegant gown. 

When I came out, over an _hour_ after arriving at my suite, Ben's eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Damn,” was all he said, along with a low wolf whistle. He looked me up and down unashamedly, and then noticed the necklace I was wearing. “Oh, that's lovely,” he said, holding the little crystal bird up to the light. “How sweet, wearing the first necklace I ever gave you.”

“Umm, it's the only necklace you ever gave me,” I pointed out.

Ben grinned. “It won't be.”

Elaine and Melissa had been watching me and Ben, and finally Melissa commented. “Jennifer, I can't think when you've looked more beautiful.”

I laughed. “Well, now that you're a lesbian, you're better able to appreciate my gorgeousness.”

We all laughed at this, and Melissa threw one of our little pillows at me. “Nonsense,” she said. “A woman doesn't have to be lesbian to appreciate beauty.”

“Down girl,” Elaine said, joking. “As a lifelong lesbian, I guarantee, you look amazing. But one look at Ben's face would tell anybody that.”

I decided I was sick of discussing how gorgeous I looked – I'd get a big head if we didn't stop – so I changed the subject and asked Melissa and Elaine what their plans were for the evening. “A night in,” Elaine said, and wrapped her arm around Melissa's waist. “Vivienne is going out with Lloyd, and we are getting weary from running about all this time. We are just going to relax and watch a movie or two.” She grinned suggestively, and Melissa blushed, but looked _very_ happy.

** ** ** **

For some reason, I hadn't thought about the term “awards dinner” at all. I had seen these things on television, and somehow didn't realize that was the kind of thing we were going to. A _public_ thing. A _televised_ , public thing. With a _red carpet_. Ben had us picked up in a limo, and explained that was how everybody arrived, so we had to as well.

When the limo pulled up to the event, we stepped out onto an _actual_ red carpet, and fans were immediately screaming Ben's name. He held my hand to guide me out of the limo, very much the gentleman, and then whispered in my ear, “I have to do a thing. Here's Emily,” he pointed out an older woman that I hadn't noticed before, “my publicist. You can stand here with her while I do this.”

Emily smiled and reached out to shake my hand. “Jennifer, it's so nice to meet you; Ben's told me all about you, of course.” I wondered exactly when Ben had been doing all this telling, considering I had been with him nearly every waking minute in the past week.

I smiled tentatively. “Oh, hi, he told me about you a bit, too,” I said, remembering the only thing I had learned about her, and wishing I hadn't remembered that particular incident.

Emily seemed to read my mind. These Brits seemed really good at that. “I'm really sorry about what happened to you and Benedict,” she said kindly. “I'm glad nothing has been said publicly, but I'm sure he's still very upset, as you must be.” 

“It wasn't my best night, that's for sure,” I agreed. “But I feel far worse for Ben. He was actually _violated_. What happened to me was nothing. Anyway, can we talk about just about anything else?” 

“Watch him,” Emily said, pointing to Ben. “He's amazing with them. Even after what happened, he's so generous with himself.”

I saw what she meant. Ben was smiling and saying obviously friendly things, and posing with as many of the girls and women who had shown up to see him as he could. For each picture, he pointed at the girl who he was in the picture with, and I thought this must be something he did a lot – they all seemed to expect it. Every minute or two, Ben looked over at me and winked. I felt special knowing his attention was still with me while he was being 'Benedict Cumberbatch' for all his fans.

After about fifteen minutes of picture-taking and autograph-signing, Ben kissed his hands and waved them at the crowd, and made his way back to me and Emily. “Excellent job,” Emily encouraged him. “They love you, and they don't even seem to have noticed you're with somebody.”

“Well,” Ben shouted above the noise of the crowd, “that will last just until the dinner gets on TV. Jennifer, you're about to have a great deal of attention paid to you.”

My chest felt tight. I hadn't thought about that before. I would be on TV as Ben's date, and all the crazy stalker women who were his fans would suddenly have an actual target to focus their jealousy on. I was about to have a huge bull's eye painted on me for any nutter in the world to hone in on. What was I _thinking_?!

Ben saw my eyes turn to panic, and he pulled me close to him. I tried to pull away, as this was exactly the _opposite_ of helpful; I didn't want all these screaming women to see him snuggling with me. “Jennifer, what?” Ben asked, and I wished this was one of the times he would just know what was going on with me.

I didn't have a chance to answer that question, because we were suddenly at a big wall, some sort of background with the names and logos of different companies (probably sponsors) on it, that we began to walk past. Ben hung back. “I'm so sorry,” he said, grabbing my hands tightly, “I have to do this other thing. I'll be with you in just a moment.” 

The entire time he was talking, cameras were flashing and clicking, and photographers were yelling out, “Ben! This way!” and “Benedict! Who's the girl!?” and other orders and questions. 

Emily grabbed one of my hands and led me down the corridor beyond the giant wall. “Don't worry, love,” she said, trying to soothe me without knowing what was wrong. “We'll be inside where it's much quieter in just a moment. Oh, I could _kick_ Ben. He didn't warn you about any of this, did he?” I shook my head, still panicking, and Emily rubbed my shoulder in a consoling manner.

In what seemed like a _very_ long time, Ben appeared around the corner Emily and I had gone around, still smiling and waving at the photographers. When he was fully out of their sight, though, he immediately dropped his smile and rushed over to me. “Oh, God, what a total dick I am,” he said, wrapping me in his arms.

“Yes, you are,” Emily agreed. “You didn't tell her any of this was going to happen, did you?”

“I didn't even think of it,” Ben said. “I'm awful. Jennifer, please forgive me.”

Apparently, they both thought that I was freaked out by the cameras and fans, and in a way that was true, but I didn't think Ben understood what the problem actually was. And my voice was completely frozen, so I couldn't possibly tell him. He kept his arms around me, and motioned for Emily to step away from us. The words he whispered into my ear had a hugely calming effect on me – just knowing he understood calmed me enough to talk.

“Jennifer, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that now you've been seen with me, more crazy people are going to come out of the woodwork and attack you, or me, or both of us. But Jennifer, I've been seen with plenty of other women, and never, _never_ , has one of them been attacked. There's _no_ reason to be afraid, I _promise_.” 

With Ben's arms wrapped around me, and his comforting baritone voice in my ears, I calmed down considerably. “Oh, there were just so many of them,” I breathed. “You are really ridiculously famous! I don't know if I can handle this.”

Ben's face fell. “Oh, please, no,” he said quietly. “This is my world, Jennifer. I want you to be a part of it. There's no _me_ without this stuff.” My heart sank as deeply as Ben's face had fallen. Was this it? Would we have to give up the idea of being in each other's lives because I couldn't handle Ben's fame? I didn't want to think that such an insignificant thing could change everything so quickly, but I wasn't sure I would ever be able to deal with this. 

But I knew that Ben had this awards dinner, and that he might win awards based on his presumably fabulous work in _Parade's End_ , and I didn't want him to be worried about me instead of enjoying his time in the limelight. So I pulled myself together, smiled at him, and said, “No, of course, I'm fine. I'll be fine. It's just so different. It's something I'll have to get used to.”

The relief on Ben's face was worth the guilt of telling the lie. I smiled bravely as he removed one of his arms from me, while keeping one firmly wrapped around my waist. “It'll be better in here,” he said, leading me into a huge dining room. 

The first person I saw when we walked in was Amanda Abbington, Martin Freeman's wife. Or partner. Or whatever. She saw us, too, and quickly finished the conversation she was having and walked over to us. “Oh, you look overwhelmed!” she exclaimed as she hugged me. “Isn't it crazy?”

I nodded, and had a feeling that Amanda had at least a small idea of the actual panic I was feeling. She distracted my attention by pointing out different celebrities, most of whom I had never heard of. Who knew Great Britain had so many celebrities? It always seemed like the same ten or so were always in movies and on shows that got the attention of us Americans. Amanda pointed out some women in very creative dresses and kind of made fun of them, but I could tell she was doing it just to get a laugh out of me.

Ben still had his arm around me as Amanda and I talked, but he was greeting and talking with other people, which I understood to be not only part of his job, but also part of his personality. He loved people, and he seemed to revel in the company of other people who did the same kind of work as he did. I wondered why he would be interested in someone like me, with no connection to the world he loved so much.

When three particular people came up to Ben, Amanda stopped talking and looked at them meaningfully. Ben turned to me and introduced them as Rebecca Hall, Rupert Everett, and Adelaide Clemens. “These are my costars in _Parade's End_. One of the awards I'm up for is an ensemble award, so if we win, we win it together.”

Each of Ben's costars said hello to me, and I thought that Rebecca Hall looked familiar. I tried to remember what I recognized her from, but gave up after a few seconds. I didn't want to be obviously trying to figure out who she was. I just smiled and said hello to them all, and then they and Ben began to talk about who was present and who was missing, and things that didn't interest me at all.

“Come with me,” Amanda said. “We'll go find your seats.”

I took my arm from around Ben, and he gripped me tighter. “Where are you going?” he asked, cutting off his conversation. 

“Oh, Amanda offered to help me find our seats,” I answered.

Ben leaned close to my ear. “I'd really rather you stayed with me, if you don't mind. We can go look for our seats together.” I was taken aback at the sudden proprietorship Ben seemed to feel over me, but I agreed and Ben excused himself to the others. Amanda walked with us, as we looked at name cards to find where we were sitting. The tables were decorated beautifully with expensive beige cloths covering them, and with sparkly china dishes and shiny gold and black decorations. Ben nodded and smiled at a few people, said hello to a few more, but kept his attention mainly on me as we meandered through the tables.

We found our seats and found one man and woman already sitting there. Their name cards said Roger Allam and Rebecca Saire. Ben introduced us, and I found that Roger was also one of the stars of _Parade's End_. Rebecca was his wife. It seemed that British women, or at least those in the entertainment industry, didn't change their name when they got married. I liked that. 

I was surprised to see my own name on the beautiful name card, printed on thick, marbled, deckle-edged paper, right next to “Benedict Cumberbatch”. It was another of the surreal events of my vacation. I snuck my phone out and snapped a quick shot.

Amanda sat down next to me, at the place marked for Rebecca Hall, and the five of us chatted about the unseasonably warm autumn London was experiencing, and Roger's and Ben's hopes for the evening. “You know,” Roger said, “it's true what they say about it being an honor just to get nominated. But still, I'd love us to win. I'm sure _you_ will, anyway,” he added, indicating Ben. I didn't know if Roger was up for more than the ensemble award, but since he kept saying “we,” I assumed not. 

After about ten minutes, Martin wandered over and stole Amanda back to sit at their table, and I was left with Ben and the others, who had started filling in the other seats around the table. It was a table for ten, so we sat with the entire ensemble that was up for the one award and their partners. I was introduced to everybody, but couldn't keep their names straight. I was again feeling nervous about the cameras all around the room. The event was obviously being filmed.

Once the dinner began, I felt more comfortable. As we were served, the announcer began speaking about all the British television shows, and though I barely knew what he was talking about, I found him interesting and funny. As awards began to be announced, I found myself getting into the whole thing, clapping right along with Ben.

Finally, the Best Male Actor in a Television Miniseries came up; the one Ben was up for on his own. I listened breathlessly as the announcer read the names of the nominees, and when he revealed Ben's name as the winner, I stood up with him and gave him a big hug. He kissed me quickly, right on my mouth, and whispered, “I'll be right back, love,” before heading up to the microphone. He gave a very short speech, thanking his costars and director, and his parents. At the end, he tagged on, “And thanks for being with me tonight, Jennifer,” and winked at me. Lights were suddenly pointed at me, and camera flashes began going off continuously. 

Ben made it back to the table, bringing a little statuette with him, and many of the cameras stayed on us even when the announcer started to read the next award. Eventually, we were left to ourselves, but Ben had put his arm around me and kissed my lips lightly again, all in front of the cameras. When the attention was off of us, I nudged him. “You did that stuff on purpose,” I said. “Why did you do that?”

Ben grinned. “This is televised. I wanted to announce in no uncertain terms who I was with tonight, and that I was officially taken.”

It would have been rude to point out that there was nothing official about our relationship, so I just smiled back at him. He surprised me by leaning over and kissing the tip of my nose. David had done the same thing, I remembered. Was this nose-kissing a British thing, I wondered?

Sadly, the cast did not win their ensemble award, but they all seemed happy for Ben anyway. After all the awards had been given out, champagne was served, and dessert was heading our way. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, and Ben stood up as if to go with me. “Ben,” I whispered, “you can't come with me to the bathroom.” 

“Watch me,” he said. “I'll come with you and wait outside. I need to say hello to a few people in that direction anyway.” He said this, but he didn't look at or talk to anybody on the way to the ladies' room. I was glad to have him with me, though, because I didn't have any idea where the bathroom actually was.

When I was came out, I stopped Ben before we headed back to the table. “Tell me, why did you actually come with me?” I asked.

Ben shifted his gaze from my right shoulder to my left shoulder, to a spot on the wall behind me. Anywhere but my eyes. I grabbed his chin and pointed his face toward mine. “Okay,” he said, “I just want to keep you close to me. My head knows that we're perfectly safe. But I just have this nagging worry that if you get out of my sight, something horrible will happen to you. I can't stand to have you out of my sight.”

I leaned into Ben's side as he put an arm protectively around me (we were getting very cuddly today), and said, “Okay, you can stay with me wherever I go.” I thought about the fact that in 48 hours, I would already be at my own home in Burnsville, Minnesota. USA. Far, far away from the glamorous life of Benedict Cumberbatch.

** ** ** **

The rest of the night was pleasant, and when we got back to my hotel, Ben asked if he could come in for awhile. He turned on the TV in the small sitting room, and the news was on. After a few international stories, the awards dinner came on, and there I was, wrapped in Ben's arm and being kissed by Ben, on national television. Not my nation, but still, national.

I had nothing to say about that, and Ben laughed at my look of shock. The announcer didn't say anything about me, thankfully, but I figured the social media would be all over it soon enough. Benedict Cumberbatch being very cozy with a mystery woman – it would be an internet sensation. It was only a matter of time before they found out who I was. I wasn't sure I was ready for that, and for the first time, I was glad that I would be going home in a couple of days.


	23. Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Jen go shopping for Jennifer's family and have a VERY cozy evening together. But - sob - it's her last full day with him in London!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive any mistakes I make about Britishness. I'm doing my best... Meantime, enjoy a little more closeness. You're gonna LOVE the next chapter I PROMISE! Hopefully, you love this one, too.

It didn't take any time at all for the unknown woman with Benedict Cumberbatch to be the talk of London. When Ben picked me up at 10:00 on Friday morning, he told me that Emily had called him at 8:00 to tell him she had already had 20 calls just that morning asking who I was, what my relationship to Ben was, and would Ben and I like to go on their show or be interviewed for their paper.

“Oh, my God,” I said, amazed. “You didn't – I'm not going on any shows or giving any interviews, Ben. All I want to do today is shop for everybody at home. Please tell me we're not doing anything public, please!”

Ben had spent all of seven minutes not touching me, and he took my minor panic as a good excuse to wrap his arms comfortably around me. I liked them there. “No, of course I would never make that kind of decision without talking to you first,” he promised.

“But your publicist does it,” I countered.

“She's paid to do exactly that, for _me_. I would fire her if she started making commitments for you.”

“That's a bit harsh.”

“I can say it in confidence because I know Emily would never do something like that. If she were like that, she'd have never lasted through my other relationships.”

“Exactly how many relationships are we talking about?” I asked, curious.

“Only two serious ones since all this fame,” he answered easily. “I actually dated my university sweetheart all the way until just three years ago, and then there was one other serious relationship. Though I've dated plenty. I'm no prude, believe me. But I can promise you one thing – I only date one woman at a time. I give each relationship the chance to be whatever it can grow into. I just haven't been lucky enough yet to find that one special woman.”

“Okay, that's enough about that,” I said, growing uncomfortable.

“How about you?” Ben asked. “What has your dating life been like?”

For some reason, I hadn't expected this question, so I had no time to formulate a “good” answer, and I just blurted out the truth. “Since I've won the lottery, it hasn't been like _anything_ ,” I complained. “When I won, my boyfriend of four years, who I had assumed I would eventually marry, got _really_ weird about everything. We had always split the financial side of our relationship pretty equally, but he started making sure we split things to the _exact_ penny. I mean, seriously, _pennies_. 

“We had always gotten along so well, so I had no problem just putting it on the table – I should pay for stuff now that I had all this money. But instead of agreeing or disagreeing with me, he started yelling at me about caring only about money, not him, wanting to get rid of him now that I was all rich – he didn't make any sense at all. After that talk, we only went out two more times. Each time was more uncomfortable than the last, and finally I just ended it. Of course, he took that as proof that he had been 'right' all along, which I didn't get, because 'all along' in our relationship had been four years. And up until I won the fucking lottery, we had gotten along very well.”

“Hmm,” said Ben thoughtfully.

“What?”

“Well, first of all, I am thankful that he turned out to be such a dickhead. Secondly, if you had been getting along so very famously for four years, why weren't you married yet?”

I felt the hackles on the back of my neck actually rise up into the air. “ _What_?” I demanded. “Are you _serious_? That's awfully presumptive. Why didn't you marry your university sweetheart? If we're going to get all extra personal about things...”

“I apologize,” Ben said. “And the reason I did not marry my university sweetheart is the reason we are no longer together, and I will be happy to tell you about it some other day when you are not yelling at me.” Ben was using the cold voice he had used when I'd first met him, and I understood this to be his angry voice. I had a feeling he could also yell and shout if angry enough, but this coldness was scarier to me.

So I punched him. Right in the bicep. “Ow!” he squealed. “What was that for?”

“I have a new rule,” I said. “You don't get to do that cold thing to me. I don't like it. If you're angry with me, yell at me. Don't give me that cold, stuffy, scary Ben. Okay?”

Ben laughed. “I could promise you, but I don't really know when I'm doing it. I know what you're talking about – you're not the first one who's ever pointed it out. Or hated it. But I'll try my best.”

I liked Ben laughing, so I let the whole “ex” conversation go. I didn't really care that much about his love life before me, and technically I had no right to care about it now, since I had refused to give him any sort of commitment or acknowledgment that I considered us a couple. I was satisfied with his promise to only deal with one woman at a time, though, and was glad that currently meant me.

“Okay, whole new subject,” I said. “Today is shopping day. I want to go back to that Camden Market place and buy so much stuff I'll have to ship it back home instead of bringing it on the plane with me. And I actually do intend to do that. I live a list of 74 people who are getting gifts from me.”

“Seventy-four!” Ben exclaimed. “Who's all on your list?”

“Well, I have my parents, my brothers and sister, their spouses and kids, my closest cousins and their spouses and kids, my pastor and his family, a few people from church, and some friends. And their spouses and kids. And I'm not getting a bunch of generic crap, either,” I said, as if Ben had somehow suggested I might. “Each person gets a gift that _they_ will specifically like.”

“And you've left just the one day for all this shopping?” Ben asked incredulously.

“Well, I've got them sorted into categories,” I explained. “Clothing, toys, books, models of famous things, and everybody is getting two keychains – one of Big Ben and one of the London Eye. Oh, I hope there's enough keychains at the little store I saw last week.”

“You are a very generous person,” Ben said, hugging me close. “It will be great fun to shop for your entire town with you.”

** ** ** **

It _was_ great fun shopping with Ben. It took a lot longer than it would have on my own, but Ben got to know me very _very_ well over the course of the day. Because I had the chance to introduce him to each of the important people in my life. I showed him the list as soon as we got to the market – he hadn't believed I had an actual list, and I don't think he believed I really planned to buy gifts for 74 people – but once he saw my incredibly organized list, he admitted I was actually serious.

So as I picked out a joke book for my dad, three audio books for my blind mom, science kits for two of my nephews, a history of London for my friend Carlos, an inspirational wall-hanging for my cousin Leah, and each other individual item, Ben learned a little bit more about me and my life. I also decided that each person would get a t-shirt, and I had no trouble figuring out what sizes to get each person. Some got funny t-shirts, some shirts with London scenery painted on them, and the kids got t-shirts with their favorite movie characters (lots of minions) and the word “London” printed across them. We stopped only for a quick lunch, during which Ben quizzed me about the family members I had already mentioned – what kind of relationship we had, how we stayed close even though some of us did not live in the same state, and lots of other questions about my life at home.

“I've figured one thing out,” Ben said gravely. “I'm a little concerned about it, too.”

“What's that?”

“You have a great life full of people who love you and whom you love. You live in Burnsville, Minnesota. I live in London, UK.”

My heart sank as I realized another obstacle to our potential relationship. “Ben, maybe this was meant to be a romantic holiday spent together, enjoying each other's company. Maybe we weren't meant to be anything else to each other.”

Ben looked horrified at the thought. “Oh, you don't understand. When I say ' _concerned_ ,' I'm indicating a problem that must at all costs be fixed. No _way_ am I giving up on you that easily. We both have money to spare; we can fly back and forth as often as we need to. We _will_ continue seeing each other, Jennifer, unless you put out a restraining order on me. I was just thinking, for the future...”

“Oh, no,” I begged, “please don't talk about the future. I'm not ready to discuss anything except that we may continue our relationship past tomorrow. I really can't think about anything more serious with you until I am _back_ in my world, and you are somehow a part of it. I've been living in this little pocket fantasy for two weeks, and it's been great, but I'm just not sure anything further will come out of it. So, please, let's just have a fun day, okay?”

“All right,” Ben agreed. “But get one thing straight. This is _not_ just a vacation romance. And to prove that to you, I'm not even going to kiss you until you're in Minnesota.”

I laughed at the logic of that, but I actually did understand. My great worry was doing something rash in this romantic, vacation atmosphere. Ben was going to make sure I didn't. Although I had been planning to kiss him tonight, I guessed that was now a no-go. So I'd wait to see what happened when I was once again in Minnesota.

Ben stood up to return our trays to the little outdoor restaurant we had bought lunch from, and came back and hugged me close. “But I didn't say I wasn't going to hug you and snuggle you as much as I can before you leave,” he promised, and kissed that little spot on my temple.

“Cheating,” I said.

“Tongue,” he replied, remembering how we had previously defined the kissing limit. I laughed. We already had this little history together. It felt so sweet.

** ** ** **

The Market closed at 6 pm, so we had plenty of time to kill for the evening. I announced that I wanted to see _Parade's End_. “I'm not sure if I can let you see that,” Ben answered when I asked if we could watch it.

“Oh? Why would that be?” I asked.

“I think when you see what a good man Christopher Tietjens is, you'll suddenly realize what a total git I am, and want to run off with him instead.”

“Well, that would be handy for you,” I pointed out, “because you _are_ Christopher Tietjens.”

“I'm really, really not,” Ben assured me, but I knew that we would be watching _Parade's End_ that evening.

Before going to Ben's flat, we dragged all my purchases to a shipping store, and got them packaged and sent to my home address. I got tears in my eyes as I filled out the form – this all seemed so final. I wished my vacation could last another week, or month. But the fact was, Benedict was back to his normal, crazy schedule the following week, so my main reason for wanting to stay on vacation wouldn't exist. 

I asked Ben if we should pick up dinner on the way to his flat, and he surprised me. “Nope, I'm going to cook for you tonight.”

“Really?” I asked.

“I am offended at your tone of shock and amazement,” Ben said with a false pompous air. Then he spoke normally. “Yes, really. We're having a Caesar salad, then steak with asparagus, and a good English custard for dessert. Along with the most perfect selection of wines for each course. I intend to impress you with my domesticity.”

“I'm already impressed,” I admitted. “Who would've thought you could cook in addition to everything else you do?”

“I have the determination to do _everything_ well,” Ben said, and my brain got very naughty and I blushed. Ben saw this and chuckled low in his throat. “Oh, yes, I do mean _everything_ ,” he promised.

Ben had me sit on a stool next to the island in his kitchen, and we chatted as he prepared and cooked our meal. He used seasonings on the steak that I wasn't used to, but it smelled delicious. We mostly talked about his family and friends. I had pointed out that now that he knew all the people in my life, I should get to know about the people in his life.

He began with talking about his parents, and pretty much stayed on them the entire time. He spoke of them with such love and affection, and I thought how wonderful it was that a man who was 37 years old would still revere his parents as he surely had when he was a child. But this man, who I was just getting to know and just starting to be amazed by, would have _had_ to have come from some pretty amazing parents. 

There was something he wanted to tell me about them but couldn't. He jumped up and down, holding his fist over his mouth, when he was thinking about it. I laughed and wondered what it was. It was obviously something good based on how he was acting...and I wondered if it had to do with the fact that they were all actors. Maybe they were going to be in some production together. The only two secrets he had told me had been about things he was doing in his career that were supposed to be hush-hush, so I figured this was probably something similar, and promised him that it was okay not to tell me. 

He eventually got over it, and started talking about his older sister, Tracy. I could tell that even though she was 20 years his senior, they were very close, and I considered that a good thing. People who had good relationships with their family tended to be the better sort of people – more honest and trustworthy. 

I was properly impressed with dinner and the wines Ben had chosen, and was excited to finally see _Parade's End_. He picked two bottles of wine out of the rack as we passed through the bar on our way to the movie theatre. 

“That's a pretty long show to watch in one sitting,” I said. “All that wine will put me to sleep.” 

“We're not drinking it all,” Ben said. “We're just having some of each.” 

He put on the show, and we sat in 'our' seats, and this time Ben didn't spend a moment without my hand wrapped in his. For once, I was not happy with these comfortable chairs. They were too small for two people, and I wished to be snuggled up with Ben in one. I could tell he felt the same way, as he kept leaning over to whisper things about the movie into my ear. He finally got up and shoved our chairs together as close as they would go, and sat back down and put his arm around me. The chair arms were between us, but we snuggled as much as we could.

And I loved the show! Ben was right – I was willing to run off and marry Christopher Tietjens after knowing him for only four short hours. He was the most noble, handsome (okay, that one Ben had claim to as well), kind-hearted, upstanding, basically perfect man I had ever seen portrayed in a movie. Well, maybe Samwise Gamgee had something on him, but nobody else I could think of. To have gone through so much and kept his sense of honor intact to the point of such pain – for himself and the girl he truly loved (not his wife) – showed a strength of character that few men had in the 21st century. If there ever _had_ been any who had.

I was crying by the end, and Ben was kissing my tears. Which I thought was sweet and romantic, but also kind of wet and sloppy. I decided I didn't care about waiting to kiss him in Minnesota, and as he went to kiss me again, I turned my face to him. The wine may have had something to do with it, and the romance of the movie. But mainly it was Ben. I wanted him. I knew now that if I went back to Minnesota and never saw him again, my heart would shatter. He almost kissed me on the mouth, and then moved his head back just slightly.

“I'm drunk,” he said, “and I'm keeping my promise. I will be worthy of Christopher Tietjens tonight.” 

I laughed at this, slightly disappointed, but appreciating Ben's determination to treat me well. Although, really, would one little kiss have been too much to ask? But I realized, as I'm sure Ben did, that one little kiss would have led to a whole lot more than kissing. With the mood we were in, that was guaranteed.

He rode back with me to my hotel (as he always did), and as we neared the door, we could hear loud talking and laughing from inside. We entered to find Melissa, Elaine, Vivienne, and Robert dancing and laughing and drinking. “Oh, thank God you made it!” Melissa shouted when she saw us. “ I was worried that since I never mentioned it to you, you might miss our farewell party.”

I laughed hard at this. Yes, her not mentioning it to me could have caused me to miss it. If I had started kissing Ben back in his theatre... Ben and I immediately started dancing, and then we all traded partners. By the time we flopped down exhausted on the couches, I had danced with every individual in the room, including Melissa. As each of us snuggled on the couch with our partners, we started to talk about all we had done in the past two weeks. It felt like a year worth of memories. Ben had plenty to say, and even Robert had apparently been with Vivienne enough to have some good stories. Then I told everyone about the shopping I had done, and we had a good laugh at that. 

As the other couples started getting snuggly, and then started snogging (oh, I was thinking in British!), Ben and I got up and headed toward the door. He hugged me tight, and kissed my cheek, then the tip of my nose again, and then he kissed the corner of my mouth. Finally, he kissed me softly on my mouth, but true to his word, his lips remained closed. I sighed and leaned back against the door frame as he left, and wished I hadn't made such a firm decision not to sleep with him at all on vacation.

Vivienne apparently agreed. “You idiot!” she yelled at me, laughing, as she and Robert headed back to her room. “I cannot believe you are not hitting that. What a waste of a holiday.” I laughed at the use of the vulgar slang in Vivienne's cultured, melodic French accent. 

I went to bed alone, and wondered if I should have been more aggressive with Ben. But I decided that if I had invited him into my bed, I would have been worried sick every minute that I wouldn't see him again, and waiting for his call once I returned to Minnesota wouldn't be a happy, cozy thing, but a desperate, fear-filled wait. It's the way I was made. But whenever that man showed up on my doorstep in Minnesota...let's just say, he wouldn't be needing one of my guest rooms.


	24. Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Jennifer and Melissa to head back to Minnesota.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter you've all been waiting for. Or fearing. Okay, probably both. Enjoy!

Ben was at my door, knocking loudly, at 6:30 the next morning. Luckily, my bedroom was closest to the main entrance to the suite, so I heard him before he woke everybody else up. I pulled on my robe and went to answer the insistent knocking. I knew who it was, of course. 

“Good morning,” Ben said cheerfully, picking me up and twirling me in a circle. “I didn't want to miss a single moment with you. Shall I make you breakfast?”

“You can try,” I said, still fuzzy-headed from sleep, “but all we have is coffee. Let's order room service.”

As we waited for our eggs, toast, fruit, juice, and milk to arrive, Ben asked about my plans for the day. “Do you need help packing? I'm going to bring you all to the airport, of course. Is there anything else that needs doing before you head out? What exact time does your flight depart?”

Ben asked continuous questions without waiting for an answer, so I waited silently until he realized what he was doing, and stopped talking. “You sound like you're on speed. You don't have to sound so excited about my leaving, you know,” I complained. “Anyway, you can help me pack by keeping me company as I do the packing. I figured you'd be bringing us, so I haven't hired a car myself. I do need to bring a few more things to the shipping store as I've bought at least one, possibly two, complete wardrobes since I've arrived in London, and it will be cheaper and more secure to ship things home than to bring them on the plane. And the flight leaves at 6 pm. Which is weird, because it arrives home at 8:15 pm. I'll be chasing the sun the whole way.”

Ben grinned and wrapped me in his arms. “I'm not excited for you to leave,” he said into my messy, curly hair. “But I _am_ excited to see you in Minnesota. Which can't happen until you leave.”

“When exactly are you coming to Minnesota?” I asked, believing for the moment that he would really be coming to my home at some point.

“I'm not entirely sure,” Ben said, “though I've been trying to work it out. Next week, I've got publicity things to do all week long – not even one day free. That includes Saturday. Sunday, I'm flying to Los Angeles to do some promotion for The Hobbit, and to talk to some people about future projects. I'm going to be there most of the time for the next two months, so I'm sure I'll find some time to fly out to Minnesota between junkets.”

“Ooh, American projects? What are you going to be doing?” I asked, curious and glad to think of him being in America for awhile.

“I can't really share that now,” Ben answered. “Not because it's a big secret, but because it's just too uncertain to bother talking about just yet. But I'll tell you first thing if any of the things becomes a fact.”

I snuggled up to Ben's chest. “Okay, sounds like a plan,” I said, not really caring what we were talking about, and just feeling lovely pressed up against Ben's incredibly fit body.

The room service arrived quickly, and we ate well. We had ordered plenty of food so Melissa, Elaine, and Vivienne would have something to eat when they awoke. I put the covered dishes into the oven on low heat, figuring it would be awhile before they all got up.

I was wrong about that, though, as Melissa straggled out shortly after we finished eating. Then Vivienne made her appearance, and finally Elaine. Elaine sat silently next to Melissa with her arm around her, staying close to her just as Ben was staying close to me. Which was kind of silly for them, as Elaine would be arriving in Minnesota in exactly one week to take up residence with Melissa and her children, at least through the winter, and who knew how long in the end? Their relationship had only just begun, but they seemed very settled and happy together.

“Oh, what a sad, sad day,” Vivienne said pouting and looking around the table. “I do not want to leave my new friends so soon. And my dear friend Elaine, you will be leaving _me_ very soon!”

“Well, you'll always have Lloyd and Robert,” I teased her. 

She grinned. “Yes, I will. I'll be coming back here after the holidays to be entertained by one of them. I haven't decided which one yet, though. It will depend on the gifts and attention I receive while I am back in France. I'll have to find out which one misses me the most.”

I laughed at her total Viv-ness, and we all chatted for awhile about the pros and cons of the two men she had begun dating. Ben and I both pulled for Robert, because we liked him better, but we also both agreed that if she were looking for something long-term, Lloyd was probably a better prospect.

After chatting awhile, all four of us went to pack our things. Melissa would be shipping all of her new stuff home, as well, so we had procured boxes from the hotel's concierge a couple of days ago. Ben lay back on my bed as I packed, chatting with me and looking sexier than was really necessary. I wanted to forget about packing, and go climb up next to him and let things happen as they may. The devilish glint in his eyes (those beautiful eyes!) told me that he knew exactly what I was thinking, and that he wasn't entirely discouraging me.

But we had made our plans, and a part of me felt that the success of this relationship hinged on keeping them. If we gave in now, it would turn out to be a holiday fling and nothing more. Which was, apparently, not what _either_ of us wanted. 

So Ben told me numerous horror stories of his travels through the world, and I laughed and packed. I hadn't traveled very much, so I didn't really have anything to add, but Ben kept me entertained as I worked. The funniest stories were about peoples' reactions on planes when they realized who they were sitting next to or across from. He assured me that he was always gracious, had his picture taken with fans wherever they found him, and enjoyed making fans happy just by happening to be where they were. 

“Doesn't it ever wear on you, though?” I asked. We'd had a similar conversation before, but I just couldn't see how being constantly mobbed by people demanding his time could be pleasant.

“There are times when I wish I was able to just run to the store quickly without being recognized,” he said. “But then I go through stretches of time where hardly anybody bothers me. Like this time with you. Only a few times did I have to stop and sign autographs and get pictures snapped, and those fans were very undemanding. At events like the dinner the other night, it's my actual job to be there, to talk with them, to relate to and enjoy being with them, and I love it. It's an unexpected part of the work I've chosen, but I certainly don't mind.”

I threw a wry glance at Ben. “Yes, I can see where you would not mind being adored by half the women on the planet,” I said.

“Half?” he said. “Why do you offend me that way? Surely it must be more?” 

I giggled, and he threw a pillow at me. I wanted to throw it back, start a pillow fight, but as that sounded like the beginning of a really bad porn movie plot, I settled for tossing the pillow back onto the bed near Ben's feet.

“Well,” I said when I had finished packing, “I'm all ready.”

“Geez, and it's only been fourteen hours,” Ben said humorously. 

I looked at my phone. “It's only eleven," I countered. “Barely three hours.”

“You weren't kidding when you said how many clothes you bought. When are you going to wear all those?”

“On a daily basis,” I answered. “Although I am glad so many of my friends are getting married in the near future, or I wouldn't know what to do with those dresses.”

“I can help with that,” Ben said. “We'll have plenty of occasions for you to wear them.”

I thought about the awards dinner, and how sure I had been that I could not do that kind of thing again. I felt nervous still, but I realized that if being with Ben meant going to such occasions, I'd probably get used to it. I had a feeling he might be worth the slight discomfort, and my brain was able to do the thinking when I was actually away from the limelight. In the event, I may panic a little, but Ben was very good at soothing me, and the way he refused to let me out of his sight had made me feel totally safe. So I smiled at Ben, and agreed that he could probably help me out with the dress situation.

** ** ** **

Vivienne and Elaine's flight was only half an hour after ours, so we all rode together to Heathrow. Viv and Elaine had both shipped home all their purchases, as Melissa and I had, so there was plenty of room for our small amount of luggage. Neither of Viv's men accompanied her, so I felt a little rude the way both Elaine and Melissa and Ben and I were all snuggled up, talking quietly just to our partners. But Viv didn't seem to mind.

“I feel lonely already,” Ben said to me, quietly, his mouth very near mine.

“That's very sappy,” I said back, equally quiet.

“I know. It's like some lame movie line. But it doesn't change the fact. Aren't you going to miss me?”

“I am, Ben; you know I am.”

“I'm afraid that you'll return to your world and consider this all a dream, and just forget about me.”

I had to laugh at that. “You're stealing _my_ worry, Ben, you can't have it.”

“You're worried you're going to forget all about me?” Ben sounded surprised.

“No, I'm worried _you're_ going to get back to _your_ real life and forget all about _me_.”

Ben squeezed me tightly. “That is _not_ going to happen,” he said. “Obviously you won't believe me until I make it clear, but I will. In fact, you be sure to keep your phone near you all the time, because I'm going to call so much you might get sick of me.”

“But you'll be so busy,” I pointed out.

“Half of my time in all the hubbub of interviews and all that shit is sitting around waiting. And I generally spend that time on the phone with my friends and parents and other family. Now, I will be spending some of that time on the phone with you. And since I'll mostly be in LA, I won't even have to call you in the middle of the night.”

“How thoughtful of you,” I teased, and for the first time ever, kissed Ben on his cheek. 

He smiled down at me, clearly thrilled. “Well, I promise to be thoughtful more often,” he said.

“Ben, I have to tell you something kind of serious, something I want you to understand. I do like you, and I believe we're going to keep seeing each other. I don't know if that makes me your girlfriend or whatever, but just so you know, I won't be dating anybody else once I get home. I don't just mean that nobody is waiting for me, I mean, for now, at least, unless things turn out different...”

Ben gently shook my chin. “Mhm,” he said, urging me to finally finish my sentence.

“I consider myself taken, too,” I blurted out. There - I had said it - everything was on the line, and this was one of the most wanted men in the universe, and here I was imposing myself on him this way. But there he was, wanting me to.

“Well, that works out well, because I'm pretty sure I would have strangled any man you dared to date,” Ben said casually. “Not on purpose or anything. I just wouldn't have had a choice. You're mine. You're my girlfriend. I'm yours. I'm your boyfriend. Are we clear on the exact nature of our relationship now?”

I felt myself blushing as I nodded.

The car arrived at the airport, and Ben helped us all with our bags, and we got checked in and moved on to the waiting area. Ben had been able to talk his way into the waiting area with us, probably due to his recognizable face, so we sat together holding hands and watching the people around us as we waited for our flight to begin boarding. I felt content. 

When they called our flight, Ben jumped up and pulled me up next to him. He then led me off to the side, just as I saw Elaine and Melissa begin kissing each other by the chairs where we had been sitting.

“Jennifer, there' s just one more thing I need to give you before you head to Minnesota,” he said breathlessly, and I knew what it was. And I had never felt less desire to slap someone in my life. 

Ben raised his hands to cradle my face. They were so large, they practically wrapped around my whole head. He placed his open mouth over mine, and began a very thorough job of kissing me. Our tongues met and danced together and wrestled for dominance (his won). I had my hands on his biceps to start with, but as the kiss grew in intensity, I reached around his waist, and pulled him close to me. I wasn't the least bit embarrassed to feel how the kiss was affecting him as I did; instead I rubbed up against him, just a little bit, since we were in public, and a very low moan escaped his throat as he continued kissing me.

I heard the click of shutters and realized somebody was taking pictures of us. I didn't even care. _Publish this on every TV channel on earth_ , I thought. _Just let it go on_. Oh, why had I wasted my time in London being all chaste and honorable?

Finally, the urgency diminished from our kisses, and Ben folded me into an embrace with my head buried in his shoulder. “I don't want you to go,” he said, and I noticed that he was choked up. I squeezed him extra hard, feeling the physical proof of his desire for me once again, and liking it. He was going to have to do something with his coat when we pulled apart, I thought.

“I know; I wish I didn't have to go, too,” I said, a bit teary in the eye myself.

I looked up and most of the people had boarded the plane. “Well,” I said lamely, “I guess I have to, though.”

Ben leaned down and kissed me again, just for a few lovely seconds, and walked with me to the ticketing agent. He handed me my onboard bag, hugged and kissed me once more (and I noticed that he had buttoned his knee-length coat to keep himself decent), and off I walked, hoping to see him again soon.

I got on the plane and found that Melissa had already found our seats in first class (I was made of freakin' money and of course we flew in first class), and her eyes were a little red, as I'm sure mine were. She held something in her hand, and when I sat down, I realized it was her camera. “Look,” she said, holding it out to me.

On it were about 20 pictures of me and Ben kissing passionately. “So that's the camera I heard clicking,” I said. “I thought we were going to be all over the news again.”

“Oh, I think you might be,” said Melissa. “There were at least three other people snapping shots of you.”

I groaned and rested against the plush head rest. As the plane took off, I looked at the pictures Melissa had taken, and thought of nothing but Ben.


	25. Back to Real Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer's home. Missing Ben, but keeping busy, until...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I missed a day. I'm spacing these next chapters out to two days, because I'm stuck and I don't want a huge long delay once I run out of chapters I've already written. But be sure to come back on Friday for the next chapter - you'll REALLY like it!

Melissa and I snoozed through most of the flight, but chatted a bit near the end.

“It's so weird,” Melissa said. “My whole entire life has changed in these two weeks. But I'm going back to the same house, the same job, the same family...”

“At least until next week,” I pointed out. “Things are really going to change then. Have you told Kayla and Derek about Elaine yet?” Melissa's kids, aged 10 and 8 respectively, had stayed with their father during Melissa's vacation, but she had Skyped with them once a day for the whole vacation.

“Oh, I have. They actually talked to her on Skype. I explained to them that we were dating, and they thought it was a joke. I guess I'll have some explaining to do before Elaine arrives.”

“How did Scott take it?” I asked, imagining her ex-husband's bigotry would be mountainous.

“Oh, about how you'd expect. He sent the kids out of the room and called me all kinds of very unfriendly names. Luckily Elaine wasn't there when he did that; it would have broken her heart.”

“I think Elaine would have broken his neck. Well, maybe not over Skype. But you told her of his reaction, of course.”

“Yes, and about how he threatened to take the kids away from me rather than let them live in such a _disgusting_ home with such _disgusting_ women. Pretty much what I expected.”

“Just remember what state you live in,” I reminded her. “He'll never get anywhere with that argument, and Elaine is a perfectly respectable woman, so... wait, Elaine _is_ a perfectly respectable woman, right?” I realized I really didn't know much about her.

“So long as she's telling me the truth about everything,” Melissa said. “This all happened so fast, and I guess there's a lot we don't know about each other, but I have to assume everything she told me was true. Everything I told her was true. And we talked non-stop, so we learned a lot about each other.” She paused. “Well, not entirely non-stop,” she said, and we giggled together.

“You know, I kind of missed you on this trip,” I told her.

“We didn't get to hang out as much as I thought we would, but you seemed as busy as I was.”

“Well, not _quite_ as busy as you.” We giggled again.

“And you're really not freaked out by me being with a woman?” Melissa asked. “I mean, you act like you're perfectly cool with it, but we've been friends for a long time. This must be really weird to you.”

“It's weird, but not in a bad way. I just wonder, did you ever feel attracted to women before, or is this totally new?”

“I've been thinking about that,” Melissa answered, sounding as though she were still trying to work it out. “I have felt attracted to women, but not as strongly as to Elaine. But of course I grew up not even imagining anything like lesbianism was possible, so maybe I just assumed all women felt some degree of attraction for each other. I mean, women are more likely to point out other pretty women than a man would a handsome man. And I was obviously attracted to the men in my life. Maybe I'm bisexual.”

“Maybe the assholes you dated are why you want a woman,” I suggested, expecting Melissa to laugh.

She chuckled a little, but said, “I know you mean well there, but that's kind of an offensive thing to say. I mean, I'm not offended, but for future reference... You probably don't want to say that around other people.”

“Why not?” I asked, honestly curious.

“It's like saying that being a lesbian isn't a real thing, but just a reaction to rotten men. And now that I know Elaine so well, I can guarantee you that's not the case. She knew she was a lesbian before _kindergarten_. She had a much more open upbringing, so her family has never minded. They're rich enough that _they_ set the trends, rather than worrying what anybody else thinks of them.”

“So will you accept Elaine's money and stop working?” I asked, a little defensively, as I had made this offer to Melissa and she had refused.

“No. I _love_ my job and I love being able to provide for my kids. And if Scott did have anything he could throw at me in court, quitting my job could be it.”

I was relieved. I didn't know why, but I would have felt bad if Melissa hadn't accepted my offer, but had taken the same offer from Elaine. Which wasn't rational, considering if Elaine had been a man... No, I still would have felt bad if Elaine were a man. If they got married, that would be a different thing, but it was too soon to think of that.

** ** ** **

Technically it was only two-and-a-half hours later when we landed than when we had taken off, but it was actually a flight of over eight hours. Even though I had dozed most of the way, I was exhausted when we finally landed. I was glad that I had only my carry-on to worry about, and was thrilled to see our friend Jill waiting to drive me and Melissa home.

When I plopped down in the front seat of Jill's car, she had a huge smile on her face. “I'm not offended that you didn't call me the whole time you were over there,” she said. “And do you want to know why?”

“Umm, why?”

“Because I know what you were doing. So does anybody who has a Tumblr account, and you know I love my Tom Hiddleston and David Tennant. You are _all_ over Tumblr, snuggling with and being kissed by _Benedict Fucking Cumberbatch_!”

I felt a small spark of panic at this news, but very small. I was too weary to feel anything stronger. “Oh, that. Yeah, he's my boyfriend.” I said this so casually, I was hoping it would seem like no big deal to Kim.

“ _WHAT_!?” she screamed, turning to look at me and causing the car to lurch alarmingly to the right.

“Kim, _drive_!” I shouted back, finally alert enough to see that I was apparently giving Kim a heart attack.

“You'd better dish, girl, what the hell? You went over there to meet David Tennant and now you're saying that you're Benedict Cumberbatch's fucking _girlfriend_?”

I smiled mischievously. “Well, I did meet David Tennant,” I said. “I kissed him, too.”

I knew I shouldn't have said this, because Kim once again nearly drove us off the road, and punched me in the shoulder as she shrieked.

“It's true,” Melissa confirmed from the back seat. “British celebrities have got a serious thing for Jennifer.” Melissa and I laughed at this, but Kim just squealed again. She kept the car in our lane this time, though.

“Oh, Kim, I'll tell you all about it,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “But for now, can you just drive me home so I can get some sleep? I'm sure that's all Melissa wants, too. She's a lesbian now, by the way.” I dropped this in mock casually just to mess with Kim's head. I was kind of having fun with her.

“ _What_!” she squealed again.

“Yep, her name's Elaine and she's coming to stay with me next week,” Melissa confirmed. 

“That's it,” Kim said, slapping the steering wheel. “ _Next_ time you go on vacation, I am coming _with_ you. I missed out on everything. Meantime, I have Tuesday off at the shop, so I expect you to spend the entire day telling me _everything_ that happened on your vacation.”

** ** ** **

I had almost fallen asleep at 10:00 when Ben called me. I knew it was him when the phone rang, because he had set my phone up so the _Sherlock_ theme song played when he called. 

“Hello?” I mumbled into the phone, keeping my eyes comfortably closed.

“Why do you sound so tired? It's 4 in the morning here; I should be the one sounding tired,” Ben said with a cheerful note. 

“I'm still on your time, that's why. I didn't think you'd call so soon.”

“I haven't stopped thinking about you. I've barely slept missing you. Which is weird, because I've spent every night separate from you for... well, for my whole life. But I miss knowing you're in London.”

“I miss _being_ in London.”

I told him about the photos that had been taken at the airport, and that we had been all over the internet, and he grunted. “I kind of expected that. I hope people are being nice. My fans are generally very kind, despite those nutters locked up in jail.”

“I didn't even think to look. I'll do that tomorrow after church.”

“I never go on social media. If it bothers you or disturbs you at all, promise me you'll quit. Just delete your accounts at Tumblr and Tweeter and Face whatever, and ignore it all. It's the only way I can live.”

“I do actually have accounts at all those places. But I _want_ to get a look at what people are saying. If your fans are as great as you say they are, it won't be traumatizing. And if they turn out to be horrible, I'll do what you said.”

“You should look up Amanda and Loo on Tweeter,” Ben said, and I wondered if he was saying it wrong on purpose to show his disdain for all things social media. “They're both on there and quite active. In fact, I think Loo put up one of the pictures I took of you and her.”

I said good-bye to Ben after a little more chatting, as we had begun to yawn more than talk. The next morning, I woke up at 8 am to get ready for church, and began my real life again.

** ** ** **

My real life was pretty busy, too, so I was able to keep my mind off missing Ben.

Sunday: Church in the morning, and then a group of us played ultimate frisbee at the local park, because the weather was wonderfully cool and crisp, but not too cold. My cousins Leah and Gene, and their four kids, were all part of the group, along with about 20 other people from church; some were my relatives and the others were my “church family.” Nobody from this crowd had any idea about my famous boyfriend, so I didn't mention him. I showed pictures from my phone to some interested people, but I just labeled Ben as “someone I met and hung out with a bunch.” Nobody recognized him.

Monday: Sam and I got together to go over my finances. It was totally boring. Basically, I had a ton more money now than I'd had two weeks ago, because my portfolio was doing very well. Sam stressed the importance of my thinking about my foundation. I agreed, then convinced him to go bike riding with me, because I was bored of talking about money. In the evening we went to a bar with a group of friends, including my friend Lisa, who I was trying to hook up with Sam, but they seemed oblivious to my attempts.

Tuesday: As ordered, I spent the entire day with Kim. We went to a spa, and had all kinds of treatments and mani/pedis and generally spoiled ourselves silly. I told her as much as I could remember about my trip, including describing my kiss with David Tennant, who she loved as much as I had before my trip, in exquisite detail. I got the feeling she didn't actually believe that Ben and I were boyfriend and girlfriend, and since I felt a little insecure about the fact myself, I just let it go while I told her the sights we had seen, and, more importantly, all about Melissa and Elaine. We spent the evening at my house, looking up me and Ben on Tumblr.

And Ben turned out to be right. His fans were wonderful. There were, of course, tons of photos of me and Ben together, at the awards dinner and kissing at the airport. But along with this were comments and even long-winded posts where fans admonished each other to be happy for Ben, to welcome me into their fandom once they knew who I was, and to shun anybody who posted hate about me because I was dating their celebrity crush. None of them knew my name, which I found to be a great relief. After seeing all this, plus the pictures of us kissing at the airport, Kim started to believe there really was something going on between me and Ben.

Wednesday: My cousin Leah, who was a nurse, had the day off. We went to the water park at the Mall of America with her four kids, our Pastor's wife, Katie, and her four kids. Leah's children were the most fun and energetic bunch of kids I had ever known, and Katie's kids went pretty crazy when they all got together, so I'm not so sure that everybody else at the water park had a great time, but we definitely did.

Thursday: I went with a group of retired ladies from church to volunteer at Feed My Starving Children, where we put together meals to be sent to third-world countries. I was able to share with them all the sight-seeing I had done in London, as they weren't so interested in my love life. Two of them, Ceil and Kathy, had been to London before, so we shared our memories of the same sights. Neither of them had been to the Dungeons and I assured them that if they ever went back to London, they'd _have_ to go there.

Thursday night, I went to a dance club with a bunch of friends, including Richard and Carlos, who had recently been married under the new state law. _They_ had been reading all about Benedict Cumberbatch and his “mystery girlfriend” and congratulated me on landing such a gorgeous man. As I danced with different friends (but none of the strange men who asked me to dance), I thought of Ben and how wonderfully he danced. My heart hurt a little, and I wondered when I would see him again.

I had talked to Ben every night. He had a thing about calling me in the middle of the night when he woke up, which tended to be around 4 am, so about 10 pm for me. If I was out when he called, I found a quiet place to talk to him so I could give him my full attention. 

His week had been full of publicity – interviews with three major magazines, appearances on two entertainment news shows, and three separate photo shoots. He said everybody asked him about the mystery girl he had been seen with, and that he had confirmed, “That is my girlfriend, Jennifer, and I have nothing more to say about her at the time, thank you.” And because British people were much more polite than Americans, they left it at that. But now everybody knew my name – my first name, at least, and some Tumblr users were changing their user names to things like “Ben-n-Jen” which I thought was kind of cute. We even got a “ship” name, where people mix the two names of a couple together. We were “Jenedict.”

Friday: I spent Friday working on my new, beautifully-landscaped lawn, getting it ready for the winter. My Aunt Phyllis helped me; I didn't know everything that needed to be done with the different kinds of plants and flowers I had growing. I could have hired a service, but I actually liked mowing my lawn, and digging into the garden and taking care of the plants. Phyllis and I had a lot to talk about, as she was newly married (at age 76) and I wanted to know more about my new Uncle Leon. I had spent some time with them, but I didn't know much about his life pre-Phyllis, so I got all caught up as we worked together. 

Saturday: I drove to the airport with Melissa, and welcomed Elaine to her new temporary (maybe) home. I had lunch with them, and the kids were with us, so they got to meet Elaine for the first time in person. I could tell they liked her, and I was glad to take a separate cab home after lunch, because I was feeling like an intruder on their new family. But during lunch, we got to hear about Vivienne, and how both Lloyd and Robert had been calling her regularly, and how she couldn't decide which one she liked best, so she had decided for the time being to keep them both around. The French seemed very much more open sexually than Americans, I noted, and Elaine agreed. This bit was discussed when the kids had gone to get refills on their pops.

Sunday was the big party. I had planned it as part of my trip to London; the debriefing party, basically. I had invited all 74 people on my gift list to an open house, and every single one of them had come for at least part of the day. The kids enjoyed my indoor swimming pool, as did some of the adults, and the caterer was amazing. I enjoyed giving out my gifts, and there was not one disappointed person in all the bunch. My brothers and sister grilled me about Ben, and I was happy to tell them as much as I could, which really wasn't much.

Nobody rang the doorbell or knocked when they came to the party, because I had printed on the invitations to just come on in, and they all did. So it was a surprise to me when, at about 5:30 pm, the doorbell rang. I had loud musical chimes for my doorbell, so I was able to hear it over the noise of the party. Somebody must have answered the door, because I heard my name yelled. “Jennifer, there's somebody to see you!”

I made my way to the front door, and in the entryway stood Ben. Luckily, he grabbed me in his arms, because I would likely have fallen over if he hadn't. I was that shocked to see him. “Ben,” I breathed, “what... how did... when... are you... oh, Ben!” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely. My ardor was returned in kind, until people around us started clapping. Then I looked up, only slightly embarrassed.

“Jennifer, thank God,” Ben said, and I saw how tired he looked. His eyes were red and puffy, and there were dark circles underneath them.


	26. Ben in Minnesota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's in Minnesota...but why? And what on earth do Ben and Jennifer get up to now that he is in her house?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's what you have probably been waiting for...and it's my first EVER sex scene, so I hope I did it well. Any comments letting me know whether I have would be greatly appreciated!

“Jennifer, thank God,” Ben said, and I saw how tired he looked. His eyes were red and puffy, and had dark circles under them. His tie was slightly askew, and his suit was rumpled. I had never seen him like this before, and was immediately panicked. But I had this house full of people, so I had to put a good face on it.

“Ben, come with me to my room,” I said, leading him away by the hand. I found Sam (noticing happily that he was talking to Lisa) and told him that something was obviously wrong with Ben, and that I'd be with him in my room. I could tell Sam saw that the situation was serious, because he didn't make any jokes about what we'd be _doing_ in my room. That kind of scared me more.

Once I closed my door, Ben again wrapped his arms around me, and this time he started to sob. Gut-wrenching, soul-deep sobs coming from his diaphragm. I was definitely on the verge of all-out panic now. What was wrong? How was Ben here? Why was he sobbing on me?

I nudged Ben over to the sofa that was in the sitting-room part of my bedroom, and he sat down when the backs of his legs hit the edge. He still clung to me, so I fell onto his lap. My panic made me speechless, so I just sat there, being held by and holding Ben, knowing I'd eventually know what was going on. I was shocked to find myself begin crying. I had no idea why Ben was crying, but the very fact of it caused me to start crying sympathetically. 

This was not how I had imagined our reunion going.

After a few minutes, Ben caught his breath, and sat up to look me in the face. “I'm so sorry,” he said, wiping the tears from my cheeks. I reached up to wipe his eyes as well. I had always wanted to rub the smooth skin right beneath his eyes, but I hadn't thought it would be to rub tears away. 

“What is it?” I asked. “How are you here? I'd say it's wonderful to see you, but right now it's very _scary_ to see you.” 

“Jennifer, I'm so glad you're safe. I mean, I knew you were safe, but... I haven't slept all week, Jennifer. I lied to you. I didn't call you when I woke up in the middle of the night. It's just that I kept wearing down by 4 am. I wanted to call you all day and all night long. I have this fear, this great fear in my gut and my chest, all day long, that something awful is going to happen to you when I'm not around. I've been complete shit in my interviews, and Emily is starting to notice that I'm off. The only thing I could think of to get any sleep at all was to see you. So here I am. I'm sorry to have crashed your party.”

“That's fine, don't worry about that,” I said, rubbing Ben's cheek. Now that my hands had found his face, they didn't want to leave it. “But you didn't tell me anything like this. I don't understand what's going on.”

“Have you ever heard of panic attacks?”

“Yes. I have a cousin who has such severe panic attacks, she can't work and she's on Social Security because of it.” It didn't occur to me that Ben might have no idea what Social Security was, but he seemed to get the idea.

“I've looked them up online in the past couple of days, because I keep having them. And it's all to do with you. Remember when I didn't want you to leave me when we were in London? I was able to leave you at your hotel, because for whatever reason, I considered that to be safe. Probably because I had secured it for you myself. But the times we were out, I couldn't stand to have you out of my sight.”

“You mean after the Ministry thing,” I said. “Yeah, I did notice that. You were worried that another crazy fan would try to hurt me, even though it's _you_ they actually harmed.”

“I'm fine, they didn't do anything to me. I've just been so worried something would happen to you.”

“Didn't _do_ anything to you? Ben, they _raped_ you.”

“No, don't say that. I've thought about it, and without penetration, it's not rape.” 

“Well, you obviously didn't look that up online,” I said, feeling a little irritated. “Rape is non-consentual sexual activity. I'm sorry if it hurts your male ego, but you were raped, Ben.” I realized immediately how harsh and cruel this sounded, and threw myself into his chest. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” I said over and over.

Ben rubbed my back. “It's okay. I just don't think of it that way. You'd think I'd be afraid for myself, I guess, but I'm just so afraid for you. It's affecting my work, and I haven't been able to sleep more than a couple of hours a night, if that, and it's just gotten to be too much. Nothing would do but to see you face-to-face and know that you were well.”

I looked back up into Ben's face. “I'm well,” I said, smiling through my newly-shed tears. Ben ran his hand over my curls and cupped the back of my head.

“Yes, you are very well, thank God,” he said, and pulled my head towards him to kiss him. We kissed more gently this time, exploring each other's mouths tenderly yet thoroughly. 

When I finally pulled back to take a breath, Ben apologized. “I'm sorry, I'm not here to seduce you.”

“Oh, believe me, if there weren't a house full of people outside that door, I'd be seducing you right now,” I said. That got a smile out of Ben. “How about you straighten up, and you can come and meet my family and friends, since you're here anyway?”

“Oh, I look just awful,” Ben said. “I'll get some clean clothes on instead.” He had brought up a garment bag with him when we had come up the stairs, but I hadn't noticed. He grinned wickedly at me. “Want to stay while I change?” he asked.

I think I surprised him with my answer. “Yes, definitely,” I said, and plopped myself back on the couch to enjoy the show.

** ** ** **

Once Ben was dressed, in casual clothes at my suggestion, he rinsed his face in the sink, and looked about a million times better than he had when I had first seen him in the entry way.

“Umm, there's something you should know,” I said, feeling nervous. “My entire family is down there. My mom and dad, both brothers and my sister, and their spouses and kids. We're barely even dating yet, and you are about to meet my entire family.” I was half hoping that Ben would decide to sit the party out in my room, but I had forgotten who he was.

“Meeting people is a specialty of mine,” he promised, and with that, we headed down stairs.

And of course Ben charmed every single person he met, including my parents. My mom was legally blind, but could see things very close up, and I had Ben lean very close to her face so she could get a look at him. “Well, he'll do,” was her verdict, and Ben and I both laughed, as did everyone around us.

My oldest brother, Charles, put Ben through the third degree, but once he realized he was the guy who had played Khan on _Star Trek_ , he was pretty much in love. I was actually the one who interjected this into their conversation, right after Charles asked Ben if he wanted children one day. I felt it was time to focus Charles' attention elsewhere. Actually, as a faithful Trekkie, Charles hadn't liked Ben's character at all, but he was thrilled to be in the presence of someone who had been on a Star Trek movie, so he didn't bother about the details. I'm pretty sure Ben ended up giving him his autograph, and to the credit of my family and friends, that was the only one he was asked for all night.

By 11 pm, most people had left. The only ones remaining were my brother, Charles, and his family, and my friends Jeremy and Sarah, a married couple who were way too drunk to drive home, even if it _was_ only 45 minutes away. I had four guest rooms total, and each contained everything an unexpected overnight guest might need, so it was no problem to have them stay. And it was definitely no problem to have Ben stay. And he most certainly would not be needing a guest bedroom.

** ** ** **

“Aren't you supposed to be in Los Angeles?” I asked him, as we entered my bedroom once more. “Not that I'm complaining.”

“I was supposed to fly in today, but I worked my schedule out so I don't have to be there until Tuesday afternoon,” he answered. “Can I stay here until then?” 

“Of course,” I said, and started to feel shy. I knew Ben and I both wanted the same thing now, but he was going to have to be the one to initiate things.

“Jennifer,” he said, relief and desire in his voice, as he pulled me to him and began to kiss me less tenderly and more passionately than he had earlier. I melted into his body and kissed back as enthusiastically as I was being kissed. I was achingly aware of my bed only a few short feet away.

Ben started out by holding me around the shoulders with one hand cupping the back of my head, but it wasn't long before his other hand started wandering down my back, to my waist, and up to cup one of my breasts. “Oh,” he moaned when he felt my hard nipple through my light cotton shirt. He pulled back. “Jennifer, I know you didn't want to – “ Ben began, and I interrupted him.

“Not until you came to me in Minnesota,” I said. “Maybe three weeks isn't really long enough, but I don't care about propriety. I want you.” I practically growled the latter statement.

Ben crushed me to him tighter, and I could once again feel that he wanted me, too. He picked me up and continued to kiss me as he carried me to my bed. I slid back to lay on the pillows, and Ben followed, covering me with his body and holding himself up on his elbows as he continued to kiss me deeply.

He placed his erection firmly between my legs, and I couldn't help but begin to rub myself against him. I was so aroused, I thought I could probably reach a climax right through our clothes. But Ben apparently wasn't having any of that.

He pushed himself up onto his knees for a moment, breaking contact, and quickly took his shirt off. He then stood up, and relieved himself of the rest of his clothing. I got my first sight of his naked, aroused body, and I shook with wanting. His muscles were well-defined, and his erection was long and thick, and I wanted it in me _now_.

I wasn't to get my wish immediately, though. Ben climbed back onto the bed, and took his time in removing my clothes. He began with my shirt, pulling it over my head, and kissing my belly, then my shoulders as he did so. I had on a front-hook bra, so he relieved me of that quickly, and attached himself first to one nipple, and then to the other. The sensation zinged straight from my nipples to my clitoris, and I yearned to have him touch me there. He sucked and bit so tantalizingly that I started to think I'd have an orgasm just from that. It had been quite a long time for me.

Ben must have sensed my reaction, because he removed his mouth from my breast, and breathed, “Oh, Jennifer,” as he came back up to kiss me some more. While he did so, he unbuttoned my jeans and began to slide them off me. As there is no smooth, sexy way to remove one's jeans, however, he had to interrupt the kissing and just yank them off, and I made sure he took my panties along with them. Then we were laying together, both fully naked, and I felt like everything was just right between us.

Ben lay back down, holding himself just above me on his elbows and knees, and he nudged my very willing legs apart. He placed himself between them, and then began kissing me again. I could feel his erection bumping against my incredibly wet slit, and he moaned deep down in his throat when he felt how wet I was. I started to reach down to guide him into me, but he said “Huh uh,” and took both my hands in one of his, and raised them above my head. 

He then reached down and finally, _finally_ touched me where I had been aching to be touched. He felt along my wetness, and then inside me, and then he found my clitoris and rubbed it gently until I was nearly climaxing. He sensed this, stopped, and finally guided his rock-hard cock inside me. It took two thrusts for him to be all the way inside, and he just held still for a moment, as we both enjoyed our complete connection, and then he began to rock back and forth, at first slowly, and then more frantically as the friction increased.

Each time we neared our climax, he slowed down, and demanded, “Wait.” I was beginning to realize that as far as sex was concerned, Ben was in charge. And some primal part of me was perfectly okay with that. Especially since he was so very good at what he was doing. Eventually, he sped up his pace and thrust harder than he had yet, and I couldn't hold on a moment longer. I came so hard, my whole body shook. Ben no doubt felt me squeezing and pulsing, because he came moments after I did. He held himself deep inside me and shivered as his orgasm shook his body. After a minute or so, Ben gently pulled out of me, and I missed him immediately. 

He lay down on his back, and pulled me onto his chest. “Thank you, Jennifer,” he said as he kissed that spot on my temple that was reserved for him alone. Nobody had ever thanked me for sex before, but for some reason it didn't sound corny or trite coming from Ben. Because I understood that he meant more than “thank you for letting me have sex with you”, but more like “thank you for being here for me, for being with me”. And I felt the same way towards him.

“Wow,” I said, pulling the covers up over my shoulders and wrapping my arms around him as tightly as I could.

Ben chuckled, and I could feel his laughter rumble through his chest with my ear pressed against it. “I'm going to take that as a compliment,” he said. 

I sighed. “All I can say is, we're going to have to do that again. And again. Frequently.” 

Ben squeezed me close. “I agree whole-heartedly.”

I must have drifted off to sleep then, because the next thing I knew, I was woken up by Ben kissing me and rubbing me between my legs. I stayed half asleep as we made love again, even more satisfyingly, and I drifted off to sleep as soon as we were finished. In the morning, I wasn't entirely certain it had happened, but I chose to believe it had. The sticky mess I was laying in indicated I was correct.

“Euw,” I said, and rolled over to get off the bed and hop in the shower. I didn't get far, though, as Ben grabbed me and pulled me back to him. 

“Stay,” he commanded. 

I giggled, and barked. Ben looked at me in surprise. “Well, you're commanding me like a dog,” I said, giggling some more to let him know I wasn't offended. “I need to take a shower, and you are currently holding me in the sticky spot. Let me go.”

“No,” Ben said, and in one move he rose to his knees and picked me up. “I'll wash you,” he said, carrying me into my bathroom, and setting me down to turn the shower on and adjust the temperature.

I had taken showers with men before, and they had always been cramped and uncomfortable. But in this amazing new home of mine, I had a shower that was about the size of the entire bathroom my previous apartment. There were five shower heads set in a half-circle to provide the most complete immersion, and Ben turned them all on with very warm water. We could have done a country line dance in this shower comfortably, so there was certainly no discomfort in washing each other carefully and thoroughly.

Of course, the washing didn't last. There were other things that could be done perfectly comfortably in the shower, and after I washed Ben's penis, I knelt down to do one of those things. Just as I was about to take him in my mouth, he yanked me up hard by my shoulders. “No!” he yelled into my face, and I cringed back, afraid of his sudden anger. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, I'm sorry,” Ben pleaded with me as he hugged me close, my gentle Ben once again. “Please forgive me. I just, just as you, I thought about the last time...” He trailed off, but I realized what he was talking about. I had reminded him of his rape when I was about to perform the same act on him. 

I hugged him tight to me. I was crying again, but I didn't think he could tell because of the shower. “Ben, I'm sorry, I didn't think, I just wanted to make you happy.” 

“I know, of course, of course, you're wonderful,” he said, and began kissing me. While oral sex was apparently off the menu, at least for now, a very acrobatic knee trembler against the wall of the shower was not, and when we were done, we washed each other once more, tenderly and lovingly. 

When we were dressed and had changed the sheets, I sat down with Ben on the couch in my sitting room. “Ben,” I said tentatively. He raised his eyebrows in question. “I think...” I hesitated, then plunged on, because I cared for this man too much to mince my words. “I think maybe you need to see somebody about what happened to you. It's affecting your sleep, your work, and our newly-found sex life together. You said last night that nothing happened to you, but Ben, you were drugged and raped, and you obviously need to deal with it.”

Ben gave me the cold look that I had forbid him from ever giving me, and I did what I had promised the last time he tried that on me. I punched him in his bicep. His response was the same – he yelped, “Ow!”

“Don't give me that cold look, Ben, I'm going to punch you every time you do.”

“Geez, sorry,” he said, and he sounded so much like one of my nephews, that I had to laugh. If nothing else, the comedy of me punching him seemed to take the edge off of the coldness that had begun to take hold of him.

“Okay, I think you may have a valid point,” Ben said, and I was surprised. I had thought I would have to argue him into this realization. I wondered if it had been what happened this morning, the way he had scared me in the shower, that made him realize he needed help. But it could just as easily have been the negative effect it was having on his work, which was very important to him. Either way, I was glad that he was not going to take more prodding. Of course, I'd have to make sure he followed through with this new discovery. 

“I'll talk to Emily on Tuesday, and see if she can set something up that can remain entirely confidential.”

I grinned. “Finding a confidential shrink for a celebrity in LA should not be too difficult,” I pointed out.

** ** ** **

When we went down to breakfast, Emma, my sister-in-law, was already cooking eggs, bacon, and fried potatoes. She gave me a knowing grin. “Well, good morning to you,” she said to us, and handed me a loaf of bread. “We need toast,” she said, eyeing Ben surreptitiously.

Just then Charles walked in, and his huge grin had me blushing down to what felt like my toes.


	27. Too Much?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben suggests an interesting plan for their immediate future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you really think Ben and Jennifer could spend weeks and weeks apart while Ben traveled to Los Angeles?

Jeremy and Sarah made a quick appearance before rushing off to work. Shortly after that, my two nephews, Conal and Brennan, launched themselves into the kitchen. They hadn't met Ben the previous evening, and now they had great fun talking with him. Brennan, the 6-year-old, asked him, “Why do you talk funny?”

Before Ben could answer, Conal, 13, explained, “He doesn't talk funny, he talks British.”

Brennan frowned. “Well British sounds funny,” he said. Ben picked him up and tickled him and said, “Well I _am_ funny, very _very_ funny, and I think you are funny, too.” He flipped Brennan upside down and hung him from his heels as Brennan squealed with laughter. Conal decided to get in on the fun, and started tickling Brennan's belly. Then Brennan grabbed Ben's legs and pulled, and Ben collapsed on the floor with both of the boys crawling over him and tickling him. By this time, we were _all_ laughing so hard, it was a good thing we had finished eating or there would have been food all over the place.

After the rough-housing, Ben and Charles got to talking about teaching. Charles was an English and Debate teacher at a private high school in Iowa; Ben had spent a year teaching English in a Tibetan monastery after university. It was surprising how well they could relate the two totally different teaching situations. 

While they talked, Emma and I had the boys round up all the digital cameras I had left laying around the house, and we loaded the pictures on my 65” Sony flatscreen. It was a joy to see how much fun everyone had had, and there were numerous pictures of every person who had been at the party. As Emma and I flipped through the pictures, laughing at many of the hilarious poses, we ran across a series of pictures of me and Ben. In one perfect picture, we had our arms around each other's waists, and were looking directly into each other's eyes, with tender smiles as we gazed at each other. 

I called to Ben to point out the photo, and he said, “I'll need a print of that. I think that's better than the one I got from the photo shoot in London.” Then we had to explain to Charles and Emma about the photo shoot, and Charles was wild with envy that I had met Mark Gatiss, who he idolized. 

After lunch, Charles' family packed up to leave, so the kids and Charles would only miss the one day of school. Charles took me aside as Emma was loading things into their van. “I really like Ben,” he said. “I know it's been hard dating since you got all this money, but I think this might be just the one for you. He doesn't care about your money, and he's a really nice guy. And he is so obviously crazy in love with you. I never thought I'd want to see a man eating my baby sister up with his eyes like that, but it actually makes me happy for you.”

I hugged Charles and thanked him, and assured him I wouldn't do any boneheaded thing to lose Ben, although I thought there would be more likelihood of Ben doing the boneheaded thing. And I was quite forgiving.

** ** ** **

Approximately five seconds after the van had pulled out of my driveway, Ben and I raced up the stairs to my bedroom. I had felt the sexual tension all morning, and seeing Ben playing and talking so wonderfully with my nephews had not helped. I wanted that man badly, and apparently he felt the same way about me.

After the first mauling of each other, we quietly cuddled for awhile and talked. As we talked, we began to explore each other's bodies with our hands, and then with our lips. We spent a great deal of time learning the curves and valleys and even the moles on each other's skin. It was interesting, and terribly erotic, and ended up pretty much as you would expect it to end up; but this time we were slower, taking more time with every sensation. Ben had intimated that he was a good lover, and he was certainly proving himself right in that respect.

Once we had thoroughly exhausted ourselves – and it took a great while to do so – we lay quietly in each other's arms, just breathing and enjoying the feel and scent of _us_. Ben kissed the top of my head, and surprised me by announcing, “I want you to come to Los Angeles with me.”

I leaned back to look into his eyes. “Really?” I asked. “Won't you just be working the entire time? I don't really care to sit around a hotel just waiting for you every day.”

“I'm not filming yet – it's all publicity stuff, so it won't take up as much time – well, okay, there will be a few days when I am fairly busy, but most of the days will be short meetings, and then time with you. Almost every evening, there will be a party or other sort of event to attend. Remember that wardrobe you wanted to use?”

I snuggled back into Ben's arms, and thought about it. I did have some plans, but they were all social. Except for working with Sam on my eventual foundation, but I could do that via Skype. As I was thinking of this, I had an idea. “Hey, Ben,” I said, “you know I really can go to Los Angeles with you because I haven't got anything to do whatsoever, besides hang out with different friends and family members.”

“That's wonderful. I'll be so glad to have you with me,” Ben said.

“No, it's _not_ wonderful,” I said. “I mean, being with you will be wonderful. But the fact is, since I've gotten all this money, I don't have a daily purpose like I used to when I was the secretary for my church. It didn't pay much, but at least I had something important to do every day.”

“You don't think being with me is important?”

“I think being with you is lovely. But I've thought of something important that I could start working on, even while I'm lounging in a swanky LA hotel waiting for my man to come home and pleasure me all night long.”

Ben chuckled, and I loved the feel of it on my cheek. “Okay, what is it?”

“Well, you know how Elaine has moved here, and is still running her family's foundation regardless of where she is?”

“Ah,” said Ben, catching on.

“I have to start a foundation. It's the only decent thing to do with all this money. I could meet with Elaine and Sam on Skype and get serious about getting this thing going. Then I'd be busy doing something important, and yet I would be able to accompany you to all these fun outings you're so excited to get me to.”

Ben hugged me. “I think I just found more reasons to like you,” he said.

“Really?” I asked, not sure what he meant.

“You talk about the foundation like it's work for you to do, but you realize, using your blessings to bless other people is really – what a marvelous thing for you to be doing. And I have a feeling you will be a strong leader of your foundation; you won't just delegate everything and take the credit in the end.”

“No,” I said, “I want to be the one deciding what my money does, and for whom, and how, and all that. Like with the benefit when I met you – homeless children are the most heartbreaking people on earth, and as far as I'm concerned, I'd like to build a house for every single one of them.”

“You are a good person,” Ben said, tilting my chin up so he could kiss me. And kiss me some more. And then he found some other things to do to me that I didn't mind at all.

We talked for a long time about my ideas for my foundation, and Ben's desire to be involved in it, as we continued to snuggle and enjoy the closeness of our bodies. Eventually, the light faded from the room, and then it grew dark. “Do you realize,” Ben asked, “that we have been in bed together, naked, all day?”

I sighed. “Yes, I do, and it's been a very lovely day.”

“It has. But I think we have some things we need to do.”

“Do? The only thing I want to do is you.”

Ben laughed. “I like the sentiment,” he said, “but you have to make some plans if you're going to fly out with me tomorrow afternoon.”

I sighed again. “Okay, but first, we need to shower. No point wasting water for two separate showers.”

“As if I'd let you out of my sight for that long,” Ben said, patting my rear as I stood up. I giggled. I couldn't believe I had fallen so comfortably into this new sexy part of our relationship. I felt a little naughty when I realized we had actually only known each other for a few days more than three weeks. 

But then again, at our ages, things needed to move a little faster than when we were younger. I had a biological clock, and with any new relationship, I would have to know sooner rather than later whether it was going to work out. Then there was the fact that I couldn't possibly have kept my hands off Ben's gorgeous body for some additional arbitrary time for the sake of propriety. 

After our rather energetic shower, I was beginning to feel a little sore. Ben laughed when I told him. I stuck out my lower lip, and he said, “I'm laughing because I am, too. I think you've worn me out. For today at least.”

** ** ** **

Sam was not excited about my plan. “Jennifer, is it possible that you are being a little fast with this guy?” he asked.

“ _What_?” I responded, appalled at Sam's nerve.

“I don't mean sexually, God, that's your business and I have no interest. But you only just met him and you're running off to LA with him when you have responsibilities here. Doesn't that seem a bit quick?”

“I thought of that, and the only real responsibility I have now is to begin my foundation. We can work on that over Skype.”

“True, but still...” Sam trailed off.

“Still what, Sam?” I demanded.

“I'm worried about you, that's all.”

“Take a fucking number.”

“What does that mean?” 

I hadn't told Sam what happened to me and Ben at the Ministry of Sound, mainly because I felt it would be telling him things about Ben that he had no right to know. And it would be impossible to tell him my story without telling him Ben's. Or to explain to him why Ben felt so protective of me. “Never mind,” I sighed. “Look, you're wonderful and I love you, but I'm 31 years old. I really don't need you telling me what to do.”

“I don't mean to come off that way, Jen, I just... I don't know, maybe I shouldn't, but I worry about you like a little sister. You're the closest thing I have to a little sister.”

“Yeah, and you don't find my brothers trying to tell me what to do, do you?”

“Do they know?”

I laughed. “That's not the point, Sam. I'm going to _Los Angeles_ for a week or two. This is the kind of thing people do. Well, people who don't have to work for a living. We go on vacations, and when one isn't enough, we go on another one.”

“Seems pretty early in the relationship to be going on vacations together, that's all.”

“Thank you for your input, Sam. I'll Skype you from LA on Wednesday. I wasn't _actually_ calling to ask your permission – just to let you know. Good night. I love you.”

Sam sighed. “Fine, good night, I love you too,” he said, and hung up.

Ben was sitting next to me on the sofa and heard the entire conversation. Considering how loud Sam talked, I was sure he had heard his side of the conversation as well. “So, Sam's not a fan of the plan?” he asked.

“He does have a possibly good point,” I admitted.

“What's that?”

“Well, he says it's pretty early in our relationship to have a vacation together.”

“Hmm,” Ben said, and remained quiet for a minute or two. “Do you think it's too early?”

“I don't know,” I said. “If I were giving somebody else advice, I'd probably say so, but I feel like we'll have a great time. I don't think spending a week or two in LA together is going to ruin anything between us.”

“I don't either. Please come, Jennifer. I'm just getting to know you, and with my life being so busy, there will be times when I really can't see you for awhile, so I want to take advantage of this opportunity.” He slid closer to me, and wrapped me in his arms.

I felt like I was right where I belonged, and I said, “Yes, of course I'm coming. What else have I got to do?”

“Umm, thanks, that was terribly romantic,” Ben said, kissing my head.

I thought back over what I had just said. “Oh, right, no, of course, I want to be with you,” I said laughing, as Ben began to kiss my cheeks, my chin, my eyes, and finally my mouth.

** ** ** **

Later that night, after I had made arrangements, packed, and had a hearty dinner with Ben, we discovered that we hadn't quite worn each other out after all. 


	28. Los Angeles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Jennifer have a great time in Los Angeles - so great that Ben is not very happy with the idea of Jennifer leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but juicy and fun...enjoy! I'm back to one-a-day as I'm back to writing crazy fast.

“Loo, you can't imagine how great it's been,” I said to Loo Brealey's face on the computer screen in front of me. I was seated in a comfortably overstuffed red chair in the Hotel Bel-Air in sunny Los Angeles, where I had spent the past week having the most glorious time of my life with Ben.

“I can tell by all the pictures you've been tweeting,” Loo said. “I'm surprised you're being so public.”

“I don't care. Ben doesn't care. We're together, and it probably makes fans happy, but mainly I want to keep my family and friends up-to-date on what I'm doing. They were so mad when I went nearly incommunicado while I was in London.”

“How are you dealing with the surge of fame? It can be tough, believe me, I know.”

“It's different for you, though. You're famous because of something you've actually _done_. I'm famous because of who I'm dating. It's not the same.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But still – your picture is already more popular than mine ever was.”

I laughed. “If so, it's only because of who's in the other half of the picture. But after the scary shit that happened in London, it seems things are going well. Ben's fans are wonderful. They send me all these nice tweets, wishing me the best, hoping we'll get married and have lots of babies, all kinds of things. But nice.”

“And you told Ben all about that, right?” Loo smiled knowingly.

“Not so much about the marriage and babies, no,” I admitted. “And I didn't tell him about the few hate-messages I've gotten. Nothing too bad, just jealousy bubbling through. Nothing as crazy sounding as those bitches in jail in London.”

“And how are things with you and Ben? Still honeymoon stage?”

“Oh, very much so. Did you know how romantic he was? He's bought me a couple of pieces of jewelry, and presented them to me in the most romantic ways. I had a beautiful thin gold necklace on my pillow when we went to bed the other night, and a bracelet hiding under my plate at dinner the night before that – they match, so he must have bought them together. And flowers – this room is filled with the best-smelling flowers. He's so busy, but he's still always thinking of me.”

“I've never known Ben to be like that. I've met some of the other women he's dated, and it's always been – well, kind of one-sided. He was kind to them, but they were so clingy to him; he seemed to be so much more aloof with them than he is with you.”

“Well, I'm not the clingy type, so maybe that's a good thing.”

“Always good not to be clingy.”

“So what's up with you, Loo? Are you dating anybody? Here I am going all on about myself, and I haven't even asked about you.”

Loo began to tell me about the man she was currently seeing – an engineer at an architecture firm in London. They had been dating for about six months, and she was beginning to feel like they may be headed towards an engagement. “Neither of us has said it, but we have talked about things like whether we want children, our financial situations, our religious beliefs – all the things you talk about when considering marriage. Everything seems to line up right, so...” She smiled a little lopsided and shrugged her shoulders.

We talked for another half hour, mostly about clothes. I showed her some of the things I had bought since arriving in LA, and she showed me a few of her most recent purchases. Although our styles were a bit different, our wardrobes showed that we both had excellent taste. Loo also knew about some of the fancier things I had been wearing recently, due to the pictures I had put up on Twitter and Facebook.

“Well, I'd better start getting ready,” I said when it was time to sign off. “We have a party tonight and guess who we're going with? _George Clooney_ and his date! Apparently, he and Ben are friends.”

“Oh, I'm jealous now,” Loo said, smiling. “You have a great time. Maybe you can snog that guy, too.” I laughed, but as I did, I realized that Loo must have known about my kissing David Tennant. I didn't mind that she knew, but it felt weird to think that Ben had told her. I asked her about it, and found out that Amanda had told her, and Amanda had been told by Elaine. I preferred that to Ben spilling out my private business to people, even close friends like Loo.

** ** ** **

As soon as we entered the hotel room, Ben and I grabbed each other and started kissing ferociously. We barely made it to the bedroom before ripping off each other's clothes, and the first time we made love that night was quick and dirty, just as we had known it would be. We had been at a film premiere, and the movie had been quite erotic, and we had kept whispering tantalizing little intimacies to each other. We got so worked up, it was a miracle we didn't just say fuck it and go to it right in the theatre. It's a good thing we didn't, considering all the media that was there! I could just imagine the coverage _that_ would have gotten us.

When we were done, we began a more close, intimate exploration of each other's bodies. I was beginning to know each fold, each bump, each mole, each hair practically, all over Ben's body. I hadn't attempted oral sex again since the fiasco in the shower, but tonight I was determined. We had been in LA together nearly constantly for two weeks, and we were closer than I'd ever been with anyone but Jeffrey. 

I lay on top of him, and kissed him deeply. Then I moved down to give his nipples some attention, licking and sucking, and even biting a little. Ben groaned in pleasure – his nipples were particularly sensitive, and I could feel his cock already starting to perk up again. I didn't want it all the way hard until it was in my mouth, so I stopped with his nipples, and started kissing all over his face, saying, “Ben, it's me, it's Jennifer, everything's good, we're safe, you're safe.” He didn't question why I was saying this, just moaned a bit more as I rubbed against his body.

I moved my mouth again to his nipples, then to his stomach, and then I was kissing the smooth area just inside his thigh. His entire package was pressed against the side of my face, and I waited to see if he would have a bad reaction. I grabbed his cock in my hand, and stroked it a little, then lifted my face to put it in my mouth. Just before I did, I glanced up at Ben, the obvious question in my eyes. He nodded and stretched his arms above his head. I immediately took all of him into my mouth, wanting to feel him harden inside me. 

I didn't have one of those trick throats that can fit an entire cock, especially one as large as Ben's, all the way down it, so as he hardened, I had to slide up toward the tip. I licked the ridge around the head, and then took as much as I could into my mouth and sucked rhythmically up and down, all the way up to the tip and back down. Ben groaned and reached down to grab my curls as they fell over my face. He pushed them out of the way, and watched me as I worked. I looked back up at him, and felt his cock twitch as he bucked his hips forward. I tried not to choke as I readjusted, and Ben, through his moaning, said, “Sorry.” 

I chuckled, and Ben bucked his hips again. He liked that. So I did something I had never done for a man, but had heard of, and started humming. Ben called out my name, yanked my hair a bit, and seemed to be trying hard to keep himself from thrusting hard into my mouth. I moved faster, up and down on his shaft, while holding his balls in one hand and gently squeezing and releasing them in rhythm with my other ministrations. Finally, Ben couldn't stop himself from thrusting once, then twice into my mouth, and then he exploded. The taste of him aroused me even more than I already was, and while I stroked him through his orgasm, I prepared to climb on top of him and do whatever I had to to finish myself off.

But when Ben finished shuddering, he quickly sat up and flipped me over. He didn't tease at all like I had, because he knew I would have no qualms about what he was doing, though he hadn't done it before. He loved me with his mouth, and in way too short a time, I had one of the most intense orgasms I had ever had. I kept throbbing for many minutes after Ben was finished, and kissing me deeply and lovingly. 

We had made love every night in LA, but this had been especially spectacular. I felt even closer to him now that the barrier erected by the rapists in London was down. It felt like the last piece of the puzzle that made him and me into _us_ had fallen in place. We belonged completely to each other – no limits. 

I knew I was madly in love with Ben, but had never said it. I was old fashioned in wanting him to be the one to say it first, and I knew he would. I was actually surprised he hadn't, but I wasn't worried. It was just a statement of what I already knew was there. It wasn't love like my parents had – years of ups and downs, mortgages, children, struggles to make ends meet, vacations, work, friendships – everything shared over a lifetime kind of love, but it was new, special, strong love nevertheless, and it was as real as the bed we had made ours in these two weeks.

** ** ** **

The next morning was, as usual, bright and sunny, and Ben had the entire day off. We decided to go to the beach (after lazy morning sex) and spend the day playing pickup volleyball, and even renting boards and learning to surf. Neither of us had done that before, but was the kind of thing we loved to do.

And Ben was a natural. We rented boards as soon as we got to the beach, at about 10 am, and by noon, Ben was actually catching waves. I was amazed. I had mastered standing up without falling, right until the wave crashed over me. It was such a different kind of balancing than I'd ever had to do. I expected it to be similar to snowboarding, but it was a whole different set of muscles for some odd reason, and I just wasn't getting the hang of it. I cheered for Ben, though, as he took wave after wave successfully. I was proud that this man, who was so talented and truly good at everything he attempted, was _mine_. I was nearly as pleased with his success as I would have been with my own.

After a thoroughly unhealthy lunch from the concession stands, we lay together on the giant towel he had brought, holding hands. “You know,” I pointed out, “we're going to have funny little no-tan marks where are hands are covering each other's up.”

“I will wear the deformation with pride,” Ben murmured, keeping his eyes closed against the bright afternoon sun.

About an hour later, we played in a pickup volleyball game, and Ben's competitiveness came out in full force. Of course everybody wanted him on their team, because he guaranteed the win. But not alone – we worked as a team. I was great as a setter, and he could spike hard enough to knock another player out if they had been in the way (luckily this didn't actually happen). 

We wore ourselves out with an hour of vigorous play, and lay back on the towel, this time exposing our backs to the sun. “We're getting pretty tan,” Ben said. “I think I might be fired from British society for being so tanned.”

I laughed. Ben was getting a gorgeous tan, though not as quickly as I was. There was some Native American in my blood, and I had always tanned very quickly in the summer – a handy thing for a Minnesotan. As we lay in a half-dozing state, I told Ben that I thought I would head back in two or three days. 

I expected him to murmur in acknowledgment, but instead he let go of my hand and sat straight up. “ _What_? Already? Jen, no, stay, please.” He sounded alarmed, not desirous of my company, and I wondered what was going on in his head.

I sat up to talk to him. “Ben, it's been two weeks. It's probably been the best two weeks of my life, but I have to get back and do some legal stuff with Sam. And this coming week, you're going into those secret meetings that you said will probably last all day, each day, so it seems like the right time for me to head back. I'll see you soon, of course. You're coming for Thanksgiving, and that's only two weeks away.”

Ben frowned, and breathed a little harder than you would expect from a man who had been laying completely relaxed a minute ago. “Yes, of course,” he said, stiffening his posture. “Of course, you must go.” He was doing it again, and as promised, I punched him in his bicep. “Damn!” he yelled, rubbing his arm and glaring at me. The other times I had done this, we had ended up laughing, and I had counted on the same reaction this time, but he actually looked angry.

I didn't care. He wasn't going to go all cold on me, not ever. Especially not now, after two weeks of nothing but partying and lovemaking and talking together. “You do that, I punch you. It's an agreed upon fact. Talk to me,” I demanded.

Ben started to gather up our things and put them in the beach bag he had carried down from the hotel, and I helped. “Okay, fine,” Ben said, still sporting some ice in his voice. “In our room, though, not in public. You never know who's paying attention. And don't punch me in public, either. I don't need the women of the world up in arms against my beloved because you are abusing me.”

I stopped packing for a moment, my heart fluttering. Had he just called me his beloved? My anger melted away, and a huge smile snaked its way across my face. I was Ben's beloved. Okay, he had a pass on the cold voice thing, for the moment. I could still punch him in the hotel if the need arose.


	29. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben's anxiety finally gets the better of him and Jennifer. If he doesn't deal with it, this relationship won't last very long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this doesn't get too depressing for you, but what is a good story with no sad parts?

We walked silently back to our room, but it wasn't a charged silence. Companionable. Almost.

Rather than sitting on the sofa snuggled together, as we usually did when we arrived, we mutually decided on two of the stuffed chairs that roughly faced each other. We were going to talk.

“Okay, Ben, what the hell?” I asked, eloquent as always.

“Jennifer, I just, I can't be here without you. Please stay. You can stay until Thanksgiving, can't you?”

“Why? I don't understand. You're about to go into lengthy meetings that have nothing to do with me. Do you really want me to just sit around waiting for you all day, every day? That's not my idea of a vacation.”

“Well, you could go shopping or site-seeing.” 

“Not that fun all by myself.”

“Can't you bring one of your friends out here? We have three bedrooms in the suite.”

“That really isn't the point, Ben. The point is, since when can't you live your life without me? You've lived 37 years without me, how can two weeks away from me be freaking you out so bad?”

Ben was quiet, until he roared, “I _need_ you,okay!? I can't _stand_ to be away from you. You don't know what it was like in London after you left. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, fear was gnawing away at me _all_ the time.” His voice now came out in barely a whisper. “I'm too scared to be without you. Please, Jennifer, stay.”

I remained silent as I realized what I was hearing. Ben had seemed perfectly fine the past two weeks while we were together in LA. He had slept fine (I believed I had something to do with that) and eaten fine. He had seemed to feel fine, too. But all the while, the anxiety that had been brought on by his rape was just under the surface, ready to pounce when I tried to change his routine.

“Oh, Ben,” I said, tears welling up in my eyes. “I've been having such a great time, I forgot about the decision we made back at my house. You need to talk to a professional psychologist or psychiatrist or someone. You need help dealing with this.”

“Dealing with what? The fact that I need my girlfriend? Is that so strange?”

“Of course it is. Please think about what you're saying. You want me as a prop to your self confidence, not as a girlfriend. You want me to exist for you and only for you. But that's not me, Ben, and if it were, I don't think you'd like me at all. I have a life; I have things to do; I have actual obligations, plans, and dreams, that don't have to do with you. I want you beside me as I live this life, but I am an independent person from you. And if you were thinking straight, you would realize that's one of the things you like about me.”

“But Jennifer, I love you! How could you leave me when I'm feeling this way?”

“Don't do that,” I ordered, and felt my own version of Ben's coldness slipping into my voice. “Don't you dare. You've never said you love me. Now you're saying it not as a declaration of love, but as a weapon to attempt to get me to do what you want. I learned about domestic abuse when I was researching charities, and Ben, that is one thing that abusive men to do their women all the time.”

“I'm _not_ an abusive man!” Ben shouted.

“No, I don't believe you are,” I said, trying to speak calmly, though I suddenly felt a shiver of panic run through me. “I don't. People love you too much. Loo would never have let me get so involved, or Amanda. They wouldn't be trying to pair you up with good women if you were abusive. But right now, your fear, your irrational fear, has you behaving like an abusive man. And I won't put up with that, Ben. I love you, but as an independent woman, not a tool to prop you up.” There, I had told Ben how I really felt, that I loved him. And in a much more appropriate way than he had.

Ben collapsed into a ball on the chair he was sitting on, and I heard his sobs. “I'm sorry,” he cried, over and over. I rushed over to him, and wrapped him in my arms. I knew that the things he was saying came from fear, not from some secretly abusive personality. But I knew, too, that I was not the one who could help him through this fear. He had somehow latched onto me as the only thing that could keep him safe. He had to realize the falsity of that to be healed.

Which meant I couldn't be around. He had to do it with help from other people than me. I thought that sounded terrible, but I was sure it was true. But I couldn't stand to see him so broken like this, so helpless. There had to be _something_ I could do to help him. As I thought about it, while holding Ben's curled frame, I slowly realized what needed doing. And I began to plan it out.

** ** ** **

After we had made love tenderly, and Ben had fallen asleep, I headed down to Emily's room, on the floor below ours. She was not surprised when I explained what was going on with Ben.

“And don't worry, Jennifer, he's not normally like that. I've known him for years, and he doesn't treat women that way. He's actually the opposite of clingy and needy.”

I realized something then. “He might not even really like me as much as I think, huh? He may only be obsessed with me because of his mental disturbance.”

Emily frowned. “I can't really answer that,” she said. “I've never seen him act with anyone else the way he does with you. He comes across as totally in love, and I don't want to suggest he's not, but I think we'll have to wait and see.”

Tears filled my eyes, and Emily gave me a hug. “I believe he cares for you, Jennifer, if that means anything.” It did, considering how well Emily knew Ben, but still, I had a tightness in my chest that seemed like taking up permanent residence.

Emily made an appointment for Ben the following day, and then turned to me. “I'd like you to stay until Ben has had either one or two appointments, if you don't mind. I think his fear of being without you is real, and it would be gentler to let him start working that out without the panic of losing your presence at the same time. I think once he starts reasoning things out with a professional, she'll help him see that he can let you go without falling apart. Would you mind?”

“Of course not,” I assured her. “My main reason for wanting to leave now has to do with what's best for Ben. I think he'll be better off getting through this without me. But if he needs me for a few days longer, I'll be glad to stay.”

Emily smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. “You are definitely the right woman for Ben, Jennifer, I can almost guarantee that.”

I took her words to heart, and tried to hold onto them, but I was having a few doubts. Was the Ben _I_ had fallen in love with the _real_ Benedict Cumberbatch? I tried to think of his behavior before and after the incident at the Ministry of Sound, and I couldn't see any difference in general. Obviously, he had become progressively more affectionate, and then on a few occasions, had become panicked about my being away from him. But it was actually more than a few occasions – he had actually adjusted his schedule and shown up unannounced in Minnesota as a result of his fears.

What was he really afraid of? In a way, it was sweet that he was afraid for me. But it was in no way sweet that he wanted to lock me up in the hotel room and keep me away from danger in order to soothe his fears. I was reassured by Emily's promise that he normally didn't act that way, but I thought back to what Loo said about how he normally treated the women he was dating. Somewhat aloof. Would he become aloof with me once he had worked out this obsessive behavior? Would I like him as an aloof boyfriend? Would aloof Ben still be attractive to me?

I thought about what I loved about him. His smile, his humor, and his active, outgoing personality. His willingness to do just about anything. His dedication to his work. None of these should be affected, as they were undoubtedly part of his personality all his life. 

But I also loved the closeness we shared; the way he left me little gifts and notes to surprise me; the way he focused his attention on me, even when we were in a big crowd and he was chatting with other people; the way his arm was always firmly around me, claiming me as his own; the way he took over in bed and made love, always in complete control. I thought that some of these things actually might change, as they could have been part of his fears of losing me. Would I still like him without these things? I didn't know, and was worried that I would have to find out soon.

** ** ** **

Ben was just waking up when I returned. “Where were you?” he asked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up slowly.

“I was down with Emily. You have an appointment with a psychiatrist tomorrow morning at 10. Emily arranged your schedule to accommodate it.”

Ben reached out to me, so I came and sat next to him. “So, you're going?” he asked, sounding a bit choked up.

“Not yet. I don't want to go until you will be relatively okay without me. I don't want to hurt you at all, Ben.”

“Did you mean it when you said you love me?”

“Absolutely. I mean, as far as I know. I know I want what's best for you. I know I can't stand the thought of being without you. But not quite the same way as you're feeling that. I think the way I feel is more healthy. And I really hope...” I trailed off.

“Really hope what?” Ben asked, pulling me close to him and kissing my temple.

I shrugged, trying to keep the tears out of my eyes and voice. “I hope, once you're cured of this panic thing, you'll still want to be with me, but in a healthy way.”

Ben crushed me against him, a little uncomfortably, but I welcomed his tight grasp. “Jennifer, don't think that I'm only this fear. I haven't felt fear this whole time in LA. But I _do_ love you. I'm sorry I said it the way I did before; that was hurtful. But it _is_ true, and it will only be stronger and better when I stop acting like such a dickhead about everything.”

I hugged Ben back, tightly, and kissed his bare shoulder. “Too many clothes on you,” growled Ben, and then he proceeded to fix that problem, and then he proceeded to love my fears away... for the moment.

** ** ** **

Ben returned from the psychiatrist and grabbed me up into his arms. He kissed me passionately, and I wondered what on earth they had talked about. Whatever it was, I liked it. “Jennifer,” he said breathlessly as he set me back on my feet. “You have to go home.”

I smiled. Yep, this was going to work. “Okay,” I said. “What has brought you to this momentous decision?”

“Well, you won't be surprised to know that, first, I was raped.”

“Really?” I said, grinning a little. 

“No, I mean, I really get it now. What happened to me was analogous to a woman being penetrated unwillingly by a man. And part of me has known that all along. That's the part that has irrationally convinced me that keeping you safe will keep me safe. And that keeping you safe means keeping you under my constant supervision. I've been using your presence as an unhealthy coping mechanism. And I'm not going to get over this irrational fear, which the doc called PTSD, until you are away from me, and I can work on my issues.”

I nodded. “Gee, how much did you pay that lady? I want a cut – this is exactly what I told you.”

“Yes, but when you said it, it broke my heart because I was hurting you. When Doctor Engels said it, I understood it for _me_. Separate from you. I'm probably not making sense. And it's not like I'm all excited for you to leave, but the next time I see you, I'm going to enjoy you for your own sake, instead of having all this junk inside me. It will be much better, you'll see.”

Ben sounded so confident that I chose to believe him. “So what are you going to do to get over all this?”

“Two things, and possibly a third. First, I'm going to take an anti-anxiety medication for awhile, to deal with panic attacks. Second, I'm going to talk about what happened to me, and about how I felt. How disgusted, and how fearful, and how worried for you, too. Everything I felt. If talking it out doesn't get rid of the anxiety, I'll do this thing called, umm, ERMD. Or EMDR. Something about lights and moving my eyes – it's supposed to work really well on PTSD. Get you to talk about what happened while these lights are flashing and it moves it to a safe memory place instead of the part it's in now, where it feels like I'm having the experience itself all the time when I get afraid.”

“Wow, that sounds intense. How long does all this take?”

“In my case, it shouldn't be too long, because it's a recent and singular event. For soldiers, it can sometimes take years.”

My stomach dropped quickly, as though I were going down the first, steep hill of a roller coaster. “Oh. That's a long time.”

“But not for me. And it's not like I can't see you at all. I'm coming for Thanksgiving no matter where I'm at in this therapy. But I'm going every morning, so it should be quicker than people who attend only once every week or two. Doctor Engels believes she'll have me right in no time.” I raised my eyebrows. “Well,” he admitted, “she didn't exactly say that. But it's the impression I got.”

“Okay, well, can I stay one more night? I need to get a little more of you before I head out?”

Ben wrapped his arms around me. “Oh, I insist,” he breathed into my ear, as he lifted me up and carried me to the bedroom.


	30. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer is worried what therapy will do to Ben's affection for her. She finds out when he arrives in Minnesota to celebrate an American holiday with her family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it's not too difficult to keep up with all the characters. Jennifer has a huge family. I'm trying to introduce only a few of them, and keep the others as general as possible. If it's hard to keep them all straight, would you let me know for my own edification as a writer?

I felt confident of Ben's love right up until the time my plane landed in Minnesota on Thursday evening. Melissa picked me up, and we spent the ride home talking about her and Elaine. I had talked to Elaine a lot during the past couple of weeks, working on ideas for my foundation, but I hadn't had a good chat with Melissa _about_ Elaine since I'd abruptly left for Los Angeles.

Everything was going well. The kids had accepted her easily, and the four of them had a great time together. Scott continued to threaten legal action, but Melissa didn't think he would act on it. When she asked me about Ben, I told her of our wonderful vacation, and then of the reason I had to leave early. There were few people I could talk to about the subject, but thankfully Melissa was one of them.

“Oh, no,” she said. “I already know what you're worried about, and don't be silly.”

“Right, okay, what am I so worried about?”

“That he wasn't really falling in love with you, but just using you to convince himself that he would be okay.”

“And since when are you psychic?” I asked, grinning.

“Since we've known each other our whole lives. And I know you're going to be worrying about this constantly from now to Thanksgiving, and I know that nothing I say will totally change that, but I'm saying it anyway: he adores you, Jennifer. It's been obvious since _before_ the drugging and rape. And the fact that you wouldn't sit and be his crutch will make him love you all the more. You care more about his health and well being than you do about being on the arm of the Magnificent Benedict Cumberbatch.”

“Yeah, he's magnificent all right. That's just what I think when he belches like a damn sea lion.”

We both burst into laughter at this, and that was about the time we arrived at my home. “Did you want to come in for a coffee or anything?”

“Nah, that's all right. You look like you could use some sleep.” Melissa was, as usual, reading my mind. I had asked to be polite, but all I really wanted was to crawl into my bed and sleep for a good twelve hours.

** ** ** **

“My bed is lonely,” Ben said from 2,000 miles away.

“Mine too,” I said, yawning and rubbing my eyes. Apparently no matter what time zone he was in, Ben would always call me at 10 pm Minnesota time. 

“I have an appointment again tomorrow.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I don't know what to talk about. To you, I mean, right now.”

“We've talked nonstop for two weeks; I think that's understandable.”

“But I don't want to stop talking to you.”

“This reminds me of conversations I had when I was in middle school.”

“Soon, we'll start arguing about who will hang up first.”

“I was already asleep when you called. Is there any way you'd let me get back to sleep now?”

“Yes, sweetheart.” Ben had not called me sweetheart before, but I liked it. “Have sweet dreams. Preferably of me. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Ben, good night.” I didn't even remember hanging up the phone.

** ** ** **

I was a confident person. I never worried about my looks, much, like so many other women did. I never sat around waiting for the phone to ring when I met a new guy I liked. I never spent time hashing over every word a man said to me, wondering if he liked me or _liked_ me liked me. I was a strong woman who was never dependent on a man.

And yet, I spent the next two weeks with a constantly gnawing fear that Ben was going to therapy himself out of wanting to be with me. He would get over his PTSD symptoms and realize he didn't really like me that much at all. I talked to Melissa about my worries; I talked to Loo about my worries on Skype; I even talked to Amanda Abbington about my worries (thanks to Loo telling her and Amanda calling to reassure me). Which led to actually, most embarrassingly talking to _Ben_ about my worries. I spent more time worrying over one man in that two-week period than I had spent in my entire adult life previously. 

When I was talking to Ben I was fine. But otherwise, my logical brain kicked in. If Ben had been focusing on me as the symbol of safety, and if no longer needed me that way, then what would be left? Maybe he didn't really find me charming and funny and sweet, and maybe he liked somebody a little more clingy than I was. Maybe he wanted the kind of woman who sat around waiting for him, who focused all her time and attention on loving him. Maybe somebody who had her own life would be too troublesome for him to try to schedule into his busy life. My worries turned into worries about my worries. 

With all this anguishing over how Ben would feel about me after therapy, I was becoming the clingy woman I had never been before. My mind was constantly on Ben, and my fear of rejection from him. Sam could tell I was distracted when we met, and even going over the details of Elaine's foundation with the two of them didn't pull me completely out of my angst. By the night before Ben was to arrive, I was disgusted with myself. I decided to have Kim, Lisa, Richard, and Carlos take me out to get smashed. British pissed. 

And just as I was about to start telling _them_ all about my fears, Sam walked up to our table, sat down next to Lisa, and kissed her right on the mouth! Finally, my attention was on something besides myself, and I made them dish. It turned out they had been seeing each other the whole time I was in LA, and Sam hadn't mentioned it to me because he had noticed my distraction. I told him off for not giving me something to distract me from my distraction, and since we were all pretty tipsy, that had us howling for minutes. 

The night went much better after that, and I even missed Ben's call at 10:45. When I finally got home at 1:15, I called him in case he was worried. “Mumphlo,” he mumbled after the phone had rung 4 or 5 times.

“Ben, you're asleep, I'll let you go. I just didn't want you to worry because I missed your call.”

“No problem, I wasn't worried. I hope you had fun.” Ben's voice was thick with sleep, but I appreciated the fact that he had actually not worried about me. A few weeks ago, and he'd have been on the next plane to Minnesota if I hadn't answered one of his calls. Progress.

“I did. Love you, sleepy.”

“Love you, gorgeous,” Ben answered, and hung up.

I feel asleep thinking how silly I had been all week. Silly to worry whether any man would keep liking me. Sillier still to worry about Ben's feelings for me, which were far beyond liking. He had proved it every night we were apart, by calling faithfully, sharing details of his day with me, asking about mine, and never failing to actually declare his love for me. _Silly me_ , I thought as I drifted pleasantly off into sleep.

** ** ** **

I picked Ben up at the airport on Wednesday morning. My house was empty, so we said hello in the best way possible – we made love for about two hours. The time apart made us more adventurous than we had been before, and we enjoyed a greater intimacy than we had yet. A lot of the time we spent just holding each other and talking.

“I think I'm cured,” Ben said, during a lull in activity.

“Really? Is PTSD something that can really be cured, or is like alcoholism, lurking there ready to attack at any time?”

“It works differently for different people. For me, it's possible that some trigger at some point in my life could bring the anxiety back, but if it does, I'll go back to Dr Engels and it won't be as difficult to deal with as it was this time. But I've decided something that I wanted to talk to you about.”

My stomach did an unhappy flippy thing when he said this, and I wondered how long it would take for me to stop fearing Ben would change his mind about me. “What's that?”

“I did a lot of study about rape culture, both in talking with Dr Engels and online when I was all alone in my lonely hotel...” This led to some kissing, some rubbing, and more sex. After about 20 minutes, when we were once again calmly snuggling, he went on as though we hadn't interrupted ourselves. “And I learned that there are a lot of places out there working on eradicating rape culture. It's a worldwide problem. You probably heard about the Indian woman raped on the tube. And most people think the idea of men being raped is a joke. But rape culture is prevalent in mainstream media as much as anywhere else. And I want to do something about it.”

“What can you do about it?”

“I want your help. And I want to help you. You're building your foundation with a main focus on homeless youth, but what if you were to dedicate a portion of your funds towards organizations working on eradicating rape culture? And what if I were to be a spokesman for that portion? I could share my story, scary as that would be, and help raise funds and focus attention on a serious worldwide problem.”

I lay still and silent, stunned. This man, who I had already fallen madly in love with, had more to him than I had even begun to imagine. That he would share something that personal, to benefit people around the world with barely any representation on an international scale; that was so generous I didn't even know what to say.

Ben misread my silence. “I know it's going to be difficult for you, too, when I share my story. People will ask you all sorts of personal questions, but if you'd be willing –“

I cut Ben off with a kiss. A long, deep kiss. “You are magnificent,” I said as I pulled away. “You're amazing and selfless and generous and magnificent.”

Ben smiled. “You already said magnificent.”

“I'll say it again. You really are magnificent.”

** ** ** **

Thanksgiving dinner was at my house, because I had a 20-person table that would fit the 18 of us that would be attending. We would have my mom and dad, my brother David and his family, my brother Martin and his wife and three children, and my sister Shelly and her husband and three children. I liked the enormous table I had, because as a kid I had always been banished to the “kid's table” rather than being able to sit with the grownups and enjoy their conversation and attention. I had hated that banishment, and once I won the lottery, one of the first things I did was purchase a table huge enough to fit the whole family, kids included. When one day I had children, it would be no difficulty to fit more than 20 people around the table. And we _would_ spend all of our holiday meals around that table.

My mom and dad were happy to see Ben again, and Charles was especially glad. Conal and Brennan felt special because they knew him and their cousins did not. But Ben played with all eight kids while Martin, Shelly, and I cooked the many dishes we would be having. My parents, Martin's wife Lisa, Charles' wife Emma, and Shelly's husband, Mark, watched football, as was tradition. Ben sat with them for awhile, but the kids tempted him away, and he ended up chasing around the house playing tag and hide-n-seek with them. 

“He's a keeper,” Shelly said, as she placed the sweet potatoes into the oven that would soon hold the stuffing as well. The turkey had its own oven, and the aroma wafting from it made my mouth water as I mixed ingredients for biscuits.

“I agree,” I said, “but why do you say so?”

“Anybody who's that good with kids...” she trailed off, raising her eyebrows meaningfully.

I felt a blush rise on my face. “Okay, down girl, we've only just started dating.”

“I know, but at your age (Shelly was 40 to my 31), it's time to start thinking about these things.” As if it had never crossed my mind how wonderful Ben was with children, and why that might be impressive to me. “And he's handsome, too. And from what I've been reading about him, he's very successful in his career right now.”

“You've been reading about him?” I was surprised that Shelly had taken that much interest in a guy I had just started dating.

“Oh, yes, we all have. Charles said he's really famous, and Charles _also_ said that he was madly in love with you. And since we never hear from _you_ , we decided to do a little online investigation. Cute pictures you've been putting up on Twitter, by the way.”

“You guys hear from me,” I argued, a little hurt. “Just because I don't call you every five minutes – hey, reading my tweets, that's hearing from me. Don't be old fashioned. There are many ways to communicate.”

Shelly flicked a towel at me and laughed. “I'm only joking, baby sister. But I hardly got to see you at the party last month because of this guy, and I had to dig around and find out who he is. Seems he's a pretty good catch. But I just hope he knows what a good catch _you_ are.”

“I'm pretty sure he does,” I said, feeling confident after Ben had arrived from California with not the slightest lessening in his affection for me.

When dinner was nearly ready, I had Ben round up all the kids so they could set the table. Ben delegated the tasks to each of the children age-appropriately, and nuzzled my neck each time he passed me, on purpose, in the kitchen. My nephew Aidan, 7, saw this and squealed, “Euuuww,” and ran off laughing to tell his brother, sister, and cousins that Auntie Jennifer was _kissing_ Ben. 

“I believe their new hero has been lessened in their view a bit,” I told Ben with a mock sad voice. “How can they respect somebody who kisses _girls_?”

Ben grabbed me around my waist and I turned my head to actually kiss him. “I'll risk the degradation,” he growled, as he kissed me thoroughly. “Mmm, you've been sampling the turkey,” he said laughing, and dashed off to make sure the children were staying organized.

“Yep,” said Shelly, “I see good things ahead for you two.”


	31. Strategy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Jennifer work out how they will deal with the foundation, and with Ben's going public with what happened to him. They work out a few other details for their potential future, as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have written the last chapter for this story - it will be coming up in about a week, so enjoy until then. In the meantime, thanks so much for sticking with me for such a long LONG story.

Emily was not as thrilled about Ben's intention to share his story as I was. Her concern, as his publicist, was with his public image. Though her personal feelings were that he was being noble, her professional opinion was that he would hurt his image.

“I think you underestimate my fan base and the public in general,” Ben argued. “And the thing is, I'm doing this, so your job isn't to judge whether it's a good idea or not, but to put the best spin on it. So if my image suffers, it'll be you to blame.”

I thought this was pretty harsh, but Emily didn't seem phased. “Of course, if that's your decision, I'll support you and back you up. Let's discuss how you're going to go about it all.”

We were back in LA after a week in Minnesota. This time I was able to come with Ben because I had secured the basis for my foundation, and the beginning strategy for making it known publicly. Eventually, I wanted to create my own organizations, funded by the foundation, but to begin with, I wanted to start working on the homeless youth problem in a few different countries, and now the rape culture problem. That was more tricky, and would take a little more work, but Ben was determined to make it an important part of the foundation.

The Monday after we arrived, Ben had an appointment with Dr Engels, as a follow-up, and they asked if I would attend, as well. Dr Engels wanted to make sure I understood the difference between Ben's obsession with my safety as a mechanism for coping with his trauma, and Ben who loved me for me. She wanted me to understand that his love was real, and that if we had any problems, we could see her as a couple and she'd help us through whatever it was.

I felt weird going to a therapist. I didn't know if I was going to have to lie down on a couch or what. I hadn't thought to ask Ben if that was what he did. I was worried she would ask me how everything made me feel. I spent the morning trying to assess how I felt about everything, so I could give her good answers.

In the event, she had regular cushy chairs and a sofa, and she didn't ask me how I felt about anything. It was more like having a conversation with a trusted friend. And I trusted her immediately, for some reason. She just emitted trustworthiness with every word and action.

“Jennifer, hello, it's so nice to meet you,” she said, shaking my hand warmly with both of hers. “Ben, it's good to see you again. You look wonderful. Have a seat.” She waved her hand at the assortment of furniture, and Ben pulled me next to him on the couch.

“So, how was Thanksgiving?” asked Dr Engels, and she really expected a detailed account. So Ben talked about my nieces and nephews, and how much fun he had had playing with them, and I talked about how my family normally spent Thanksgiving, and how it had been pretty usual this year, with the addition of everybody's interest in Ben.

I then brought up the thing that I was most interested in talking about. “So Ben wants to go public with what happened to him, and use his experience to fight against rape culture, partly through my foundation.”

Dr Engels raised her eyebrows. “Really? That's quite a big step.” She turned to Ben. “And you came up with this on your own?”

I felt a rush of anger. “Of course he did. Do you think I would try to coerce him into doing something like that for any reason?”

Dr Engels turned her gaze back to me. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that at all.” I found myself not really believing her, but I said nothing.

“Of course I came up with it on my own,” Ben assured her. “I have so many privileges, both in the way I was brought up, and now especially in my position as a highly visible actor and celebrity. If I have the opportunity to put that visibility to good use, I feel obligated to do so.”

“What I want to know,” I interjected, “is if you think that would harm him at all psychologically. Will his PTSD come back because the whole world will now be talking about what happened to him? There could be some ugly talk, you know.” I said this last sentence directly to Ben.

Dr Engels paused to let Ben answer, but he remained silent. “I think you are very good to worry about Ben,” she said glancing at me, then lowering her eyes. “I apologize for insinuating that you in some way put him up to this. I can see that you really care for him.”

“I love him,” I stated, as it was the simple, and yet so complicated, truth.

“Yes, I can see that. As far as how Ben handles this psychologically, I can see one of two things happening. First, he could go through more trauma, and need some more time with me, which I would certainly be available for. But the more likely scenario would be that, based on the huge amount of support I believe he would receive from the public, despite a few ugly comments here and there, he would actually bring himself more into harmony with what happened. By being able to make something good come of it, he should feel less inclined toward traumatic responses, and more inclined toward positive feelings from being able to help others, and relate to others, who have gone through the same thing.”

Ben squeezed me. “See,” he said, looking into my eyes, “it's more likely this will be a good thing than a bad thing.”

I squeezed him back. “Well, Dr Engels has been quite helpful to you so far; I guess I believe her optimism. And like she said, just in case any of your issues flare up, she'll be around to help you deal with it.”

** ** ** **

After meeting with Dr Engels, Ben and I headed to the beach. We rented surfboards again, and this time, I did almost as well as Ben. We were worn out after three hours of surfing, and flopped down on our giant towel, breathing heavily. “I love how you do active things with me,” Ben said while working on catching his breath.

“I love stuff like this, even if I'm not as good as you.”

“That's something I love about you. You're a perfect match for me. I don't have to run out to do my athletic things with the guys – though I still will – I can include you in them. We make a great pair.”

“I wonder if you'll do the same for me,” I said, a teasing note working its way into my voice. “Do you think you'd want to sit down and knit with me sometime?”

Ben sat up. “You knit?” he asked, incredulous.

“I do. Most of my nieces and nephews were wearing sweaters I knit for them at Thanksgiving.”

Ben spent a few moments picturing Thanksgiving, and exclaimed, “But they were excellent! I didn't know you had this talent. Will I benefit from it?”

“Oh, no, there's a curse involved with knitting for your boyfriend, and I won't chance it.”

“A curse? Rubbish – what kind of curse?”

“Once you finish knitting for him, the two of you break up. It always happens.”

“So you never knit anything for Jeffrey?”

“Yes, I did. After four years, I figured I was safe. I gave him the sweater I knit about three weeks before I won the lottery. I will _not_ mess with the curse again. My husband will have sweaters knit by me.” I realized what I had just said, and luckily my face was full of the day's sun, or Ben would have seen me blushing furiously.

“I guess I can see your point,” he said, grinning so like the Cheshire cat that I could tell he was thinking the same thing I was. He wanted a sweater. We hadn't been together long, and certainly wouldn't be discussing such things just yet, but I could tell he intended to have his sweater, and the very thought sent butterflies racing from my stomach to my heart and back again.

** ** ** **

The next morning, we met with Emily to strategize. She saw Ben's determination to go public with his rape, but she wanted to make sure he did it in the best way possible.

“First, I think we need to wait until after all three episodes of the new Sherlock series air,” she said. “Prior to that, you have all these movies coming out, and you'll have awards shows to attend based on them, and we don't want to take attention away from your work. Things should calm down near the end of February, and maybe that would be a good time to go public. Actually, early March would be better. Wait until after the Oscars. _12 Years a Slave_ will undoubtedly have representation at the Oscars, even if you don't specifically get a nomination. You don't want to take attention away from your projects, or your costars.”

“That makes sense,” said Ben. “What do you think, Jennifer?”

“I think it's a good idea. It will give me and Sam the chance to get the foundation actually on its feet. But should we announce the new foundation in concert with your announcement, or should it be separate?”

We discussed this for awhile, and decided to do two separate announcements. The first, Sam and I would do in February, and Ben would do a bit of promoting, but nothing too involved. The focus of the opening would be the homeless youth work we would be doing. We would have Project Off Streets, from London, involved, as a major recipient of funds, as well as a few similar organizations in the US. We might even branch out to France, Spain, and Germany, to begin with. I intended to have an international focus. 

Then sometime late in March, we would announce the offshoot of the original foundation (the Peltier Foundation I had decided to call it, continuing the tradition of naming it after its founder, me) focused on fighting against rape culture. This would be international, as well, considering how rape culture permeated every nation on the planet. Ben would be the primary spokesperson for this offshoot, and would have his own team of fund raisers and strategists. I would also set a portion of the endowment aside specifically for those issues. We couldn't decide whether to give it a separate name, but Ben was willing to lend his name if it seemed like the right thing to do. I loved him that much more for the offer.

After three hours, we ended our meeting feeling quite accomplished. Ben had no publicity commitments for the day, but instead of going out again, we decided to stay in. The first thing after Emily left, of course, was making love. We were so enamored of each other's bodies, that we could easily spend hours just exploring every touch, every sensation, every possible shiver of desire we could cause in each other. And when we had an endless afternoon stretching in front of us, that is what we did.

After a couple hours of this exploration and enjoyment, we took a shower, and went out on the veranda in our robes (or dressing gowns, as Ben called them). We sat in luxurious fold-out loungers, and held hands.

“I have some questions for you,” Ben said, “and I don't want you to freak out. But I'm 37 years old, and need to know a few things before we get much more serious.”

My stomach did a small flip, but I thought I knew where Ben was headed, and he made a good point. At our ages, there was no need to play around, having a fling with somebody who could absolutely not make a marriage partner. That didn't mean we would necessarily marry each other, but if we knew for sure we couldn't marry each other, we'd really be wasting each other's time. “Shoot,” I said, curious as to what things Ben would consider important.

“First, and seriously, don't freak out, do you plan to have children ever?”

“Oh, yes, and sooner than later. I've got this damn biological clock thingy.”

“Do you expect to be married before you have children?”

“I do. Martin and Amanda seem perfectly happy in their arrangement, but I'm American, I'm Lutheran, and to me, marriage comes before children like drinks before dinner. What about you?”

“Yes, the same. As far as I know, people pull relationships off the way Martin and Amanda do, but I can't see it for myself. I want my children to have my name, and I want my wife to have my name, as well. That's old-fashioned, but I'm kind of an old-fashioned man.”

I smiled. “Yes, I've noticed.” I was thinking about the way he so naturally took control of our relationship, in the bed and out of it. “I'm a feminist, and I see no problem with a woman who keeps her name after marriage, but I'm probably going to hyphenate if not change Peltier to my second middle name when I get married.”

Ben squeezed my hand. Apparently my answers were encouraging him. “How do you imagine your finances working with the man you marry?”

This was something I hadn't thought of before. Before winning the lottery, I didn't really have any finances to think of. I gave myself a minute or so to consider the question. “When I get married, I don't want to be unsure,” I began. “I intend to marry the man who I _will_ spend the rest of my life with. I don't want a prenup, and I don't want our finances to be separate. The Bible says when a man and woman marry, they become one, and to me, that includes finances. I suppose that's one reason I've had to be careful of dating since I won the lottery. A lot of men would only love too much to join my finances with theirs.”

“Some men couldn't care less about your wealth,” Ben said, with a grin. 

I couldn't believe we were having this conversation. We had been together, had known each other, just over a month. But Ben was right. There was no point in playing around at our ages. And certain things had to be compatible in order to bother continuing the relationship.

“I've got one for you,” I said. “Do you want dogs?”

“I want dogs almost as much as I want kids,” Ben said. “And when I say kids, I do mean three or four, if possible.”

I grinned. “Oh, definitely three minimum.” Then I gasped, as previously we had been talking hypothetical, and suddenly I had made it more personal. 

Ben squeezed my hand again. “No pressure, Jennifer, but we might as well make sure we're compatible before getting any more serious. I know for sure that we have to remain friends no matter what happens with our relationship, because we're basically going into business with each other, through your foundation. And I already know none of the things that make couples enemies will happen with us. There is no cheating in me, and I don't believe in you, either. At least I intend to keep you as interested and as satisfied as you need to be, so you'd never need to cheat on me. And I have no interest in any woman on this planet besides you. But if we end up incompatible in some other way, and have to move on to new partners one day, we'll stay friends.”

I remembered something Ben had said ages ago. “So why did you and Olivia break up?” I asked, now knowing the name of his college sweetheart and long-time girlfriend.

“Oh, that's right, I told you I'd tell you when you weren't shouting at me. She didn't want children. I looked past it for years, assuming she'd eventually change her mind, but I finally realized she really meant it, at least with me, and I had to end it. It was heartbreaking, as I had assumed we'd end up married. Since then, I've dated one other actress, and have decided I won't date people in the business any more. Again, I'm very old-fashioned, but I have the kind of career that won't allow me to be at home all the time, and I'll need a wife who is able to run the home, with whatever help she needs, money being no object, while I'm away. Someone secure enough not to worry about what I'm up to when I'm at work.”

I smiled, knowing that I would, if it came to it, fit Ben's qualifications for a wife, so far at least. I was totally secure in our relationship and never worried about cheating. I knew men did that, but I didn't think I'd be attracted to a man who would ever do such a thing. I believed there were subtle clues to a man's potential for infidelity, and they were things that totally turned me off. I had never had to deal with a cheating partner, although I had once had my boyfriend break up with me to be with another woman. With Ben's crazy schedule, I knew there wouldn't be time for cheating, much less energy. Plus, there'd be no way he could get away with it, with all the attention constantly paid to him. But most of all, it just wasn't in his nature, and I could tell that.

As for me, I had never cheated on a partner, and certainly wouldn't be starting with the most amazing man I had ever dated. I thought back to Jeffrey, and how blindsided I had been by his reaction to my winning the lottery. But he had shown signs of insecurity before that happened. Those were signs I had missed, not being familiar with them. I had loved him so much, and it was weird to think that just over a year after our heart-wrenching breakup, I was already totally in love with another man.

But, oh, I was. And after our room-service dinner, I showed him once again just how very much. By the time we went to sleep, we were both as worn out as if we had spent the afternoon surfing.


	32. Sherlock Premiere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is really a plotless chapter, more of a fantasy of what it would be like to be with Benedict, as his date, on important occasions such as this. But Jennifer does meet his parents!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little sad to see this story winding down. Gotta get back to real life. Blech. If I could just live in the little life I've made here, as I hope you all are doing, I'd be fine. :)

The premieres of Ben's recent work began before Christmas, and on December 15, I finally got to find out what Ben had wanted so badly to tell me about his parents. We flew back to London for the BFI premiere screening of _The Empty Hearse_ , the first of three episodes of the third series of _Sherlock_ , the BBC TV show that vaulted Benedict to instant fame. It had launched his rise from well-respected actor (which he still was, of course) to internationally famous celebrity.

We dressed in full dinner regalia – he in a black tuxedo with a gold vest, and me in a gold-colored, shimmery dress to match him. By now, I was used to the fans and the time Ben spent with them – it never failed to thrill me to watch him being so generous with himself. Emily and I stood together, as usual, in the background while he did his thing, and did it very well. 

This time, Benedict's parents stood with us as well. Although they were famous actors, they were not as easily recognizable as Ben, and since his star outshone that of every one else (except perhaps Martin's), we stood relatively unnoticed. Because Amanda was in this third series, playing John Watson's fiance Mary, she was out with the crowds as well as Ben and Martin. 

After they had spend considerable time with the fans, we walked through the photo gauntlet, and this time I stayed with Ben. He wanted me in all of his pictures at events like this, as a sign to his fandom that I was indeed an important part of his life. He wanted them to love me as much as they did him – though that was far from possible.

The photographers noticed Wanda and Tim, and took photos of them as well. They didn't usually come to Ben's publicity events, but since they both loved _Sherlock_ so much, they had decided to attend this premiere. I was glad to have them with us, though a little nervous. I hadn't met them before, and wondered if they found it weird to have their son hanging all over me. But they were very polite, kind even, so I guessed they were okay with it.

Once we were finally in the building, the amount of press harassing Ben and Martin, and the others who were part of the show, lessened. Ben's parents, Martin and Amanda, Ben, and I were all sticking together, when we ran into Andrew Scott talking with Mark Gatiss and Stephen Moffat. I would have been totally starstruck if I hadn't already spent a day with them. Okay, I still was, a little bit.

Mark gave me a big hug, and then kissed my hand. He then proudly introduced me to his husband, Ian. I had known he was gay, but not that he was married, and felt like jabbing Ben in the ribs for not telling me. After Ian had hugged me as well (nice guy), Mark turned back to me. “Just so you know, Stephen, Sue, and I knew from the day at the photo shoot that not only would you and Ben end up together, but that you would make a lovely couple,” he told me, beaming. 

Stephen heard him, and confirmed, “Oh, aye, we did, and you do. Great free publicity for _Sherlock_ , and everything Ben's in. Everyone's eyes are on him and the lovely young brunette from Minnesota – wherever _that_ is.” I laughed at this mirror-image of my usual ignorance about all things British. I also had a feeling Stephen was teasing and he knew exactly where Minnesota was.

Loo was the next person we saw, and she hurtled herself at us. She grabbed me in a tight hug, and then Ben. She kissed Ben right on the mouth, but in a friendly, actor kind of way that I didn't mind at all. She then turned to me. “God, I've been so looking forward to seeing you. Skype is amazing, but it's great to see you in person.” She leaned in and whispered, “Has Ben told you anything about the show at all?” I shook my head. “Oh, good!” she squealed. “You have to promise not to get mad at me.”

“Ah, this must be where you kiss him. I'd never have guessed that Sherlock would kiss Molly. Oh, well, shows what I know.”

Loo squinted in a big smile, and squeezed my shoulder. “Oh, you'll see,” she said, and turned to talk to Martin.

I tugged on Ben's sleeve to get his attention. “Am I the only one here who doesn't know what's going to happen?” I asked.

“Well, in this group, yeah,” he said, smiling his beautiful U-shaped smile. “But there will be plenty of reporters and the luckiest members of the public who are also going to be here that will be as surprised as you.” He leaned down and kissed me, and I heard a bunch of cameras go off as the flashes lit us up.

“You do that on purpose just to goad them, don't you?” I asked, and Ben smiled mischievously. Oh, yeah. He did.

When we were finally in the theatre, I sat between Ben on the right, and Loo on the left. Her fiance (she had been right about her and Devon's relationship when we Skyped back in October – it had led to an engagement around the end of November) was next to her, and Ben's parents were on the opposite side of Ben.

As the credits came on, I felt almost dizzy with the surreal aspect of this event. The last time I had watched the show _Sherlock_ , I had barely known that Benedict Cumberbatch existed as a real person outside his Sherlock character. Now, I was sitting here next to the man who played the star (one of the two stars, really) of the show, the title character, and his arm was around me, his other hand squeezing mine. And even though the show had been on hiatus for two years, I had actually watched all six of the then-existing episodes just the past summer, in my own home. It was crazy.

It didn't take long to see what Loo had been talking about. Barely two minutes into the show, Sherlock was smashing through a window and kissing Molly Hooper in a super-sexy way. I nudged Loo in the ribs with my elbow and leaned over to say, “Damn, does he look that hot kissing me?”

Loo giggled and nodded. “Hotter, even, because he really means it.”

“Hmm,” I said, “how many takes did you guys have to do?”

Loo giggled harder. “Oh, quite a few, dear, quite a few.” I couldn't help but laugh at her self-satisfied smile, and I squeezed Ben's hand and smiled at him to let him know I wasn't being jealous or anything stupid like that.

Better yet was the scene shortly after where Sherlock and _Moriarty_ nearly kissed. I was disappointed that they didn't actually get to kiss like Sherlock and Molly had – I thought it would be totally hot to see my man kissing Andrew Scott – on screen, not necessarily in real life. 

I was so impressed with the reunion scene between John and Sherlock, I could barely stay seated. I wanted to stand up and clap each time John punched or head-butted that arrogant friend of his. The audience was raucous – laughing, clapping, yelling encouragements at the screen. This kind of movie experience was new to me, and I loved it.

Finally, a ways into the movie, I learned what Ben had been so excited about for so long. When John interrupted Sherlock's visit with his parents, I did a double take. I looked at the screen, then over at Ben's parents. Ben bounced in his seat, clapping his hands. “It's your _parents_!” I nearly shouted, and everybody around us began clapping; some even stood up.

“I know! I know! I know! Isn't it brilliant!? Oh, I've wanted to tell you so badly! My parents are playing Sherlock's parents, isn't it the best?” 

I leaned past Ben and congratulated Wanda and Tim. I wasn't the only one. I hoped I didn't miss anything important while doing so, but I knew that I would be watching this episode – and all the others – over and over again in the near future. 

After the premiere, there were tons of on-the-spot interviews, but everybody who had watched the movie, including me, had agreed not to let anything about the plot out, especially how Sherlock had survived his fall. Which was absolutely brilliantly done. People swarmed about Andrew, asking him if Moriarty was still alive. He shook his head, and said, “I can't talk about it, but remember, I'm a part of the Sherlock family; I don't necessarily have to be on the screen to want to attend the premiere.” He did a good job of sounding completely innocent.

I was interviewed for just a minute, but I think the interviewer wanted me to slip something out, as I was unused to these kinds of things. I was as vague as Ben and the rest of the cast and crew, and she quickly lost interest in me. I was impressed that she didn't ask anything about my dating Ben. I didn't particularly want to answer those kinds of questions. What could I say? Tell them how wonderful he was in bed? All I could say was he was a great guy and I really liked him. Which would bore the reporter and his or her viewers.

After all the schmoozing and interviewing, the same basic group who had gone out after the photo shoot, plus Ben's parents and Ian, went out to a fancy London restaurant that had been rented out just for us for three hours. The food was solid and comforting, and the conversation was magical. Listening to Mark and Stephen talk about what they wanted to do with seasons 4 and 5, in vague terms, was fascinating, and I couldn't get enough of listening to them. 

Ben must have felt a little ignored, because he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me with no obvious provocation. 

“Oi, what's that for?” I asked, surprised. 

Ben laughed. “Oi? We're getting to you, we Brits, aren't we, darling?”

I loved when he called me darling. It was somehow the most special of the many endearments he used for me. So I kissed him back. “Yes, dear, you really really are.”


	33. Christmas With the Cumberbatches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jennifer meets and spends time with Ben's parents and sister, and they spend a nice Christmas together. Ben and Jennifer have a great adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They are getting closer and closer...to? How do you imagine the story will end? I'll tell you this - it ends very very happily. :) Only a few days until you know how. Cee-Jay-One, you're awesome, as are all my readers. I especially love those of you who leave comments. It's nice to get that little bit of recognition for all the work I'm doing. Mainly I'm doing it for myself, but of course I want to share the fun with you as well. I hope you are enjoying.

On Friday, December 20, I arrived at Ben's childhood home to spend the Christmas holiday with his parents and his sister, Tracy. 

Though I had met his parents and talked with them at the premiere and dinner, this seemed like a much more serious undertaking. This was me, coming into their home and family. Somehow this seemed more like an audition than a simple holiday meeting.

As we walked up the steps to the porch, Ben stopped and hugged me. “Jennifer, I know you're anxious, but they LOVE you! I guarantee it. You are just the woman they want me to bring home for Christmas.” I pondered that statement as we walked up to, and into, the door. There was a man standing there, and he took our coats.

“You have _servants_?” I hissed. Nothing could have prepared me for that.

“They're not live-in or anything,” Ben said, as though that somehow made the fact that his parents had servants less mind-blowing.

We entered a huge, open sitting room, and the three were sitting on chairs chatting. They looked up as we entered, and Wanda stood up and rushed to me, arms open. “Oh, Jennifer, it's so lovely to see you, really, we've been just dying to finally get the chance to know you better.” She enveloped me in a buxom hug, and I felt as welcome as it was possible to feel in the strange situation. I could see that Ben had taken part of the decorating of his own flat from his parents' home – the comfortable furniture, the beautiful wooden end tables and coffee tables, and the spacious arrangement of eclectic pieces. 

Ben's dad stood up while his mom was hugging me, and he gave me a big hug, as well. Tracy followed, saying, “I'm so glad to meet you, Jennifer. Ben has told me so much about you, I feel like we're already friends.”

His family couldn't have made me feel more welcome. We were soon discussing Ben's trip to LA, and all that had occurred. The servant ( _servant_!) came in with a tea tray set with a beautiful, antique-looking service, and with biscuits (cookies) and little tarts and what I believed were called Jammy Dodgers (I learned that from watching Doctor Who). The whole set-up was so elaborate, I was impressed with the one man being able to carry it. He set it all down on the coffee table, and proceeded to pour tea for everyone, and give us little plates to use for whatever snacks we wished to eat. 

I didn't feel shy at all, so I had one of everything, wanting to try the food that Ben was accustomed to. Everything was delicious, though heavier than similar treats would have been in America. As though they used thicker ingredients or something. But I ate every bite, and had seconds of a few of the treats.

“I like this one,” Wanda said, referring to me. “She isn't trying to sit here and pretend she doesn't eat. I intend to feed you both up very well while you're here – you're both too skinny by far.”

“Mum,” said Ben, finishing a biscuit, “I'm not skinny. I'm quite well built, thank you very much.”

We all laughed. Tracy looked at me glance appreciatively at Ben's body, and said, “I see Jennifer agrees with you,” and we laughed again.

** ** ** **

That night, after a delightful, 7-course dinner, served by James (the servant I had met at the door, and obviously the only servant, besides the cook), Ben took me to his room. I looked around in interest at his theatre posters, action figures, and piles of books. There were posters advertising plays that he had been in at university along three of the walls at slightly higher than eye level, and below them, photographs of scenes he was in from the same plays. There was also a poster of him with a bunch of Asian people, and he explained that it was from the year he had taught English in Tibet. I reveled at the chance to see what young Ben had been like. I asked him about the action figures, and he shrugged. “They're from when I was little. I always kept them around because they represent some of the first play-acting I did as a child.”

My bags had been deposited in the room earlier, no doubt by James the ubiquitous butler, and Ben suggested I unpack. “So I'm staying in your room with you?”

“Of course you are; where else would you stay?”

“Well, it's just, your parents don't mind?”

Ben guffawed. “I'm 37 years old, Jennifer, I'm pretty sure my parents understand I'm not a virgin.” 

I felt silly, but held my ground. “Okay, but it's not like we're going to have _sex_ in your parents house.”

Ben grabbed me from behind and rubbed against me wonderfully indecently. “Oh, yes we are,” he growled, nipping the side of my neck. “And just to get you used to the idea, I think we'll start now.”

I was a wimp. I had meant what I said, but only until Ben started kissing me passionately, all over my body. He _did_ go and lock his door, for which I was grateful, but after that, I was within his complete control. We had never been terribly loud, and his room was in the opposite wing from his parents', so I basically forgot they were even there for the next hour or so. Our lovemaking was rarely just a little foreplay and then actual intercourse – we tended to explore each other thoroughly, with our hands and our mouths, and we liked to extend the anticipation of eventual release for as long as possible. Ben was a master at keeping me going, and I was learning to do the same for him. We also liked to feel each other as we lay together after release, just to feel each other's skin under our hands, each claiming the other for our own.

After breakfast on Sunday, Ben and I got our gear ready and headed to Bromley Ski Center in Kent. It didn't snow much in London for the winter, but this place had artificial snow, like they produced at Buck Hill in Burnsville. That way, it could be snowy all winter long.

We spent the day snowboarding, with just a short break for lunch at the lodge. Ben was more aggressive than I was, which was no surprise, but he stayed with me on most of our runs. Each time we reached the bottom of the hill, we'd rush to the lift to get back up. There were only two hills dedicated to snowboarding, so we didn't have much of a choice, but we boarded those hills quite well over the day. 

“Whoa, now I know you really _can_ keep up with me,” Ben said, as we stowed our gear in his father's large sedan. “I'm wishing now I had used a car service; I'm tired, and it'll take at least 40 minutes to get back.”

I flopped on the passenger side and did my seat belt. “I'm glad you're the manly man you are, Ben, because I would hate to be driving right now.”

“You know I'm actually a feminist, right?”

“I do, actually. You couldn't stand when your fans called themselves Cumberbitches. That's one thing I actually heard about you before I knew you. But if you're aiming to get me to drive, no way. I'm so tired, I'd drive on the wrong side of the road by habit and get us both killed.”

“No, I wasn't aiming to get you to drive,” Ben said, and ruffled my sweaty, now-frizzy curls. “I am both a manly man and a feminist. I just wanted to make sure you knew I was both.”

“I do, dear,” I said, and we both laughed. Ben's mum called his dad “dear” all the time and I was apparently picking it up from her. We had spent all day on Saturday together, the five of us, and some of Ben's aunts and uncles and cousins had come to visit. Leslie was one of the ones who came, and she remembered me from that day which seemed like years ago. I was happy to see that Lawrence was with her – that day had fulfilled its promises of romance for both of us.

Ben's mum had hot chocolate waiting for us, but she called it “drinking chocolate”. It was thick and warm and frothy, and just the thing after a day on the snowy hills.

“I've never met a girl who could keep up with Ben before,” Tracy said as we all sat down to sip our chocolate and taste some biscuits.

“There was that one cricketer in high school,” Ben's dad pointed out.

Ben scoffed. “Yeah, she turned out to be a little more manly than me. She's a lesbian, you know? Happily married. She's definitely the husband in that family.”

We laughed good-naturedly, and I saw Wanda elbow Tim none too gently. I assumed she was telling him to stop bringing up Ben's exes. I didn't mind, though. I liked hearing anything about Ben before I met him – even who he dated. I felt perfectly secure, being the one sitting on the couch snuggling with him at the moment.

And that night, I heard stories about Ben's childhood and adolescence that endeared him to me more than he already was. I heard about the time in grade school when he kept coming home from lunch starving because he was giving his lunch to a girl whose family was too poor to send lunch to school with her. I heard about the time he came home with a black eye and bloody nose because he had fought with a group of boys who were picking on a younger student. I heard about the time he broke his arm trying to skydive off the roof of the school building, using four kites in a harness he had made himself. 

I heard so many other stories of the sort that I really got a picture of how he grew to be the man he was. One of the funniest stories was how when his all-boy boarding school put on plays, he always played a female character. He said he'd rather play a female character than miss out on the play, and obviously such dedication had paid off well.

** ** ** **

On Christmas morning, I woke to the ministrations of my beloved. We made love slowly, our eyes never losing contact, and it was like a contract – that we would be one, the way we were now, forever. I had the peaceful memories of the beautiful candlelight service at Ben's church the previous night – the glow of hundreds of tapers being lit, one from the next, until the whole church was aglow with the soft light – running through my mind as we climaxed together and then lay in each other's arms until we finally felt awake enough to get up and shower – together, of course.

The brightly lit Christmas tree was decorated festively with an eclectic combination of ornaments – a fancy, glass-blown bauble was hanging next to a construction-paper candy cane made many years ago when Ben was in grade school. A photo frame ornament with the family, including a beautiful Irish setter, from years ago hung next to a glass icicle that shone in the twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the whole tree. 

And beneath the tree – presents! I felt like a little kid every time I saw a tree with piles of gifts below it. Each box a potentiality of something special. The fact that I was in a position to buy anything I wanted didn't dull the effect of the stunningly wrapped gifts. Ben and I were the first ones up, so we took our stockings from the fireplace mantle, and opened them. The Cumberbatches had the same tradition as my family did – whenever you get up, you open your stocking, but you wait to open the presents until everybody is up and has enjoyed breakfast. And there is no age too old to receive a stocking – even Ben's parents had stockings hung on the mantle. His parents filled all the stockings but their own, and Ben, Tracy, and I had enjoyed purchasing little trinkets and candies to place in his parents' stockings.

When everybody was finally up, we had a simple breakfast of scones, orange juice, and (of course) tea. The breakfast tea was a special blend to the Cumberbatches, created by one of their ancestors, and was the most delicious tea I had ever tasted. Its earthiness was infused with a natural sweetness and slight citrus taste, like nothing I had ever had before. Wanda laughed when I asked how it was made. “Oh, sweetie, even I don't know. It's for Cumberbatch men to know and pass down through the generations. Since Tracy hasn't had any sons, I certainly hope Benedict does, so we won't lose the recipe.” She winked at me, and I blushed furiously.

There was one gift per person under the tree from the Cumberbatch parents, and each one had been carefully chosen. Mine was something I would treasure forever – a beautiful silver 8x10 photo frame, with a picture of Ben from high school, dressed in his school uniform and looking as beautiful then as he did to me now. I hugged both parents when I opened it, and Ben, too, just because I would take any excuse to hug him. From Tracy, I received a beautiful, blue, cashmere sweater that matched my eyes perfectly. She got a hug, too. And from Ben, I got another beautiful set of jewelry – necklace, bracelet, and ankle bracelet – gold, with delicate little glass bird charms dangling from the chains. Of course, I not only hugged, but kissed Ben, much to the enjoyment of his family.

Ben explained that his family, like the two of us, bought whatever they wanted when they wanted it, so he had suggested a photograph of the two of us together for his parents and for Tracy. We chose the one from my party, where we were gazing so adoringly into each other's eyes. The photos were a hit, and Wanda immediately made room on the fireplace mantle for theirs. It looked wonderful up there with its antiqued gold frame, amongst all the other family pictures. I surreptitiously checked to see if there were any other photos of Ben with girlfriends, but I found none. I did, however, catch Tracy giving me a knowing smile as I searched.

James and the cook were back in time to prepare a traditional Christmas dinner. “Don't they have their own families?” I asked, worried at this seemingly cruel requirement for the servants to forgo their own Christmas plans.

Ben grinned. “They are each other's family. They are Mr and Mrs James Houlton, and if we didn't let them cook and serve Christmas dinner for us, there would be a mutiny. They take their jobs very seriously, and take pride in serving the Cumberbatch family. Stop being so American.”

“I won't be at all American tonight,” I promised. “I'll eat that goose like a true British, um, person.”

“Have you ever had goose before?”

“I have not. But I look forward to it. If it's like every other unknown meat, I will assume it tastes like chicken.”

Ben seemed to choke out his next words. “Like _chicken_! How _dare_ you? Goose is the finest fowl you will ever taste, and it's _nothing_ like chicken.” His upper crust was showing a wee bit.

“So, like duck?” I asked, mock innocently.

Ben picked me up, threw me over his shoulder, and patted my rear. I howled in disgrace, and he set me back down. “Don't howl, you American, you got what you deserved.”

We were both laughing so hard by this point, there were tears coming out of our eyes. Wanda and Tim walked in, with their arms about each other's waist, and gave us an amused, tender look. If I ever had doubts that they liked me, they were gone by now. They treated me so nicely, but they also gave off every non-verbal indication that they truly enjoyed my company. 

** ** ** **

After dinner, we gathered again in the living room. “And now, dear,” Tim said (everybody in this family called each other dear, apparently), “we will celebrate Christmas night in the truly British style.”

I wondered what new custom was in store for me next, and was absolutely thrilled when Tracy turned the TV onto BBC One and we watched the very last Doctor Who starring Matt Smith as the doctor. I nudged Ben when he first came on screen. “I danced with him,” I whispered.

“I know you did,” Ben said, and planted a small kiss on my mouth. “Happy Christmas, Jennifer, I love you.”

“I love you, too, Ben,” I said, and we focused back on the TV, wrapped warmly in each other's arms.


	34. New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Jennifer have Christmas with her family, and then they go out with friends for New Year's Eve. It doesn't start out very promising, though...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty short chapter, but I hope pretty good to read. Be sure to watch Ben on the Oscars tonight, he is presenting I believe. And his movie, 12 Years a Slave, is up for all kinds of awards. Though sadly, not Ben in particular.

My family was very understanding about us spending all the pre-Christmas time with Ben's family, but I was on strict orders to return home – with the gorgeous Brit – no later than December 27 so we could have a family Christmas celebration. Which was, of course, at my house. Even though I had bought large, new homes for all my siblings and my parents, everything was still going to be held at my house – it was becoming a tradition. And I didn't mind. I was a single person and had the largest house of them all. I had four guest bedrooms, and in the basement, a kid's dream – seven bunk beds were set up in a large, open area connected to two bathrooms (a boys' and a girls'). The room contained shelves with books and toys to entertain kids of all ages, even teenagers (as my first nephew was now a teenager, I had made sure of that).

My sister had taken on the job of preparing the house for Christmas, using decorations I had stored in the basement. Despite my windfall, I still loved having a tree decorated with things from when I was little, ornaments from my parents' parents, and also ornaments handmade for me by all my nieces and nephews. It was tradition for them to make me ornaments each year, and as they grew older, the ornaments got better and better. I liked the little baby hand print ones, and the little photo frame ones, as much as the handmade decorations.

Ben and I bustled in just after noon, Charles following in our wake after picking us up at the airport. The house smelled wonderful – Shelly was cooking our traditional Christmas ham. “I actually liked the goose,” I told Ben, “but over here in the colonies, we have ham for Christmas.”

“I'll bet you have no Christmas pudding, either.”

“Nope, sorry, but we do have pie.” The Christmas pudding was something I had thought was just in songs, but it had actually been the dessert for Christmas dinner at Ben's parents' home. And compared to what we Americans think of as pudding, it was amazing!

We deposited our gifts beneath the tree – a big spruce that Charles and Martin, my two brothers, had cut from our cousin's tree farm, but the sheer number of gifts seemed to dwarf the tree. We always gave gifts to every person in the family, and with 17 of us (not including Ben) that added up quickly.

It was our tradition to open gifts as soon as everybody was present, so the kids were thrilled when Ben and I walked in. This year, Brennan and Marcel, Martin's son, were the Santas. They looked at the tags on all the gifts and handed them out. When they had all been handed out, each person sat with a large pile surrounding them – I was happy to see that included Ben – and we ripped into them. We “ooh'd” and “ahh'd” and shouted our thanks in the midst of sheer cacophony. We would be more individual about our gratitude later, but the gift-opening was a free-for-all, and we were all in.

At first, Ben tried to open each gift and give a sincere thanks to the person who gave it, but that lasted all of one time, before he, too, was madly ripping into whatever had his name on it. He got ornaments that complimented mine from each of the nieces and nephews – not the same, but ones that went with each other. I considered the thought that went into this arrangement, and hoped Ben didn't notice.

Martin's hobby was woodworking, and he could probably have made a career of it, if he hadn't been so successful in law school. His gifts were each beautifully crafted with the individual recipient in mind. He gave Ben a beautiful, shiny goblet, and me one to match. They were made of various woods pressed together and spun on a lathe, and then finished with a gloss that would allow us to use them as actual drinking goblets, though I doubted we ever would use them that way. Mine would have pride of place with many of Martin's other creations in a cabinet that he had made for me many years ago.

I gave Ben a pair of gold cuff links, as I had noticed that he liked to wear cuff links. These were tiny parachutes, although they were round rather than the rectangular kind ours had been. He kissed me sweetly when he opened them, and my nieces and nephews all said, “Ooh, Auntie Jennifer's _kissing_ Ben _again_!” and “Gross!” We laughed, and kissed again, specifically for their enjoyment.

The whole family stayed until the 30th, and had their chance to tell Ben numerous stories about me. My stories did not make me look quite as noble as Ben's had made him look. They told the story of the time I ruined the cedars in front of our house by climbing from a tree onto the roof and sliding down the snow onto the top of the bushes. And of the time I fell off the stage during a school Christmas concert, because my “eight maids a-milking” action had been a bit too vigorous. They did tell one story that made me look pretty good – the time I had stayed home from a weekend vacation so I could take care of the baby rabbits our cocker spaniel had “rescued” from their nest in the garden. By the time the rest of the family returned, the bunnies were all dead and I was heartbroken. 

“Aww,” Ben said, and hugged me. “Maybe I should buy you a rabbit.”

I laughed. “Oh, God, no, when I get a pet, it will be a dog. But not a spaniel – I want an Australian shepherd. They're the best dogs.”

“Oh, I don't know,” Ben said. “Aren't they a bit chummy?”

“The ones I've known were more loyal and attentive than chummy. They didn't try to sit on my lap or anything, they just hung out waiting to go fetch a ball or something.”

“Hmm,” Ben murmured, and I couldn't believe we were talking as though we would be buying a dog together.

“So, what are you all doing for New Year's Eve?” I asked the room in general, a little overly-boisterous.

Charles and Emma, Martin and Lisa, and Shelly and Mark all planned to have small get-togethers at their respective homes with other parents and their children. My parents would be at their church, helping to host a party for the youth of the congregation. “It keeps us young,” my dad said.

Ben and I planned to go to The Max, a nightclub that had a _huge_ New Year's bash every year. I had gone there for all of my adult years with a big group of friends. Melissa and Elaine would be with us, and Elaine had gotten Vivienne to come all the way from Europe with Robert. By the time Christmas had rolled around, Viv was totally smitten with Robert, and could barely remember Lloyd's name. I was excited to see my friend, who would always make me think of the time when I had first met Ben.

** ** ** **

I had been to bars and night clubs since coming back to Minnesota, but as Melissa, Elaine, Viv, Robert, Ben, and I entered the Max, I was hit with a staggering wave of deja vu. I leaned hard against Ben's body as the upbeat dance music assaulted my ears. My stomach started feeling gurgly and bubbly, and I was afraid I was going to vomit. I grabbed Ben's hand and dragged him with me toward the ladies' room.

“Jennifer, what's wrong?” he asked urgently as we arrived at the restrooms and I stopped to catch my breath, which was fast and raspy.

“Oh, Ben, God, I'm having – is this what a fucking panic attack is?”

“Oh, fuck, I didn't even think. Shit. Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bottle of pills. “I'll come with you.”

He pushed open the door to the ladies' room, and some of the women in there thought they were hilarious – screaming as though Ben had caught them naked or something. We ignored the women, and Ben ran cold water. There were little paper cups in a dispenser mounted above the sinks, and he grabbed one and filled it with cold water. He shook a tiny blue pill out of the bottle he had produced, and had me take it.

“What is it?” I asked after swallowing it down.

“It's called Xanax. It's for panic attacks. I brought them with me tonight, worried that I might have an attack. It never occurred to me that you might.”

We sat on a couch in the dressing area, and the women had settled down by then. “It's just, walking in, with the same group – well, mostly – and the loud pounding music, it just felt so much like that night.” I buried my head in Ben's shoulder.

“I know, I felt the same way. Not the panic, but the deja vu hit me pretty hard. It probably did for all of us, actually.”

As he said this, Melissa, Elaine, and Vivienne poured in through the bathroom door and rushed over to us. “Oh, Jennifer, I'm sorry, I never even thought about how coming here might affect you,” Melissa said. “Do we need to leave? We can just have New Year's at our place, or at yours if you want.”

I loved Melissa so much; she always knew exactly what to say. In this case, she bolstered my determination to stay by offering alternatives. “No, no,” I said, shaking my head. “Actually, Ben gave me an anxiety pill, and I'll be okay in a minute. I just had such a strong – “

“I know what you mean,” Viv interrupted. “I felt the exact same way when we walked in. It reminded me so much of that night. Except I have someone even better than David Tennant on my arm this evening.” She grinned. The free-spirited Vivienne had apparently been tied down to just one man.

“Me, too,” said Elaine. “It was weird. I don't feel that way now, but just when we walked in...”

We talked about the weird feeling for a few minutes, until I was ready to get up and enjoy my night. I don't know if it was the pill or just the reassuring presence of my friends and the opportunity to talk it out, but I felt back to my regular party self. “How about you?” I asked Ben as the others filed out ahead of us. “Do you need to take one of those little pills?”

“I'm good. And just in case you're wondering, my doc said drinking with just one of those pills would be okay. You might feel a little tired, but if you do, you can just lean on me.”

I laughed. “I have enough New Year's Eve adrenaline in me to live on, don't worry.”

And I did. We had two drinks each at a table with the rest of our group, and then went out to the dance floor. We found Carlos and Richard dancing, almost as well as Ben danced, and joined them in a group. Shortly, that group grew larger, as Sam and Lisa joined us, and Melissa and Elaine, and then Viv and Robert. Eventually we had to un-group, or we'd have taken up the whole dance floor. I danced a few dances with Ben, and then Richard decided to swap Carlos for Ben, so I danced with Carlos for a couple of songs while Ben danced with Richard. I loved that he was not self-conscious about dancing with a man.

At about 11:00, the deejay started playing the top songs of the year, and I was glad when a slow one came on. Maybe I was getting a little tired from the drinking and Xanax, or maybe just from all the dancing. I gratefully leaned my body up against Ben's as we swayed and slid around the floor to Maroon 5's “Daylight,” one of my favorites. “As far as I'm, concerned,” Ben whispered in my ear, “you'll never have to leave me when daylight comes.” I giggled at how sappy this sounded, then suddenly kissed him passionately, never wanting to ever be further from him then I was in that moment.

At 11:45, the wait staff began to hand out flutes of champagne to everybody, on the dance floor and at the tables. We made it back to our table, where Elaine and Melissa were holding seats for everyone, and found that the tables surrounding us were filled with many of my friends and some of my cousins. I got a warm feeling all through me, before I even touched the champagne. I felt love for each person there; partly, that came from the drinks I had been downing every few songs, and partly from the safety I felt being wrapped in Ben's large frame. We had been hurt once, but it wasn't going to happen again. And I was one lucky woman to have such caring friends and family, and most importantly (for the moment anyway), Ben.

We all counted down loudly the last 20 seconds of 2013, and when Auld Lang Syne began to play, Ben bent down and kissed me thoroughly and passionately. I could sense every one around us doing the same, but I couldn't see them, as my gaze was locked on the beautiful chameleon eyes of my beloved, Benedict Cumberbatch.


	35. Going Public

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Jennifer attend the Oscars, and then go public with their linked foundations, and Ben's trauma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have reached the penultimate chapter of my story - which is actually as long as a novel (but not tight like a novel). Thanks for sticking with me for so long! Thanks for all your kudos and comments. Be sure to head back tomorrow for the final chapter - a very good one I assure you.
> 
> As to the part about the women being in jail - I realize the justice system probably doesn't work that quick and neat, but I wanted to deal with it before the end of the story.

The highlight of early 2014 was when Ben and I went to the Oscars – yes, the _Oscars_ . The day was long and completely insane. This was like no other awards show we had been to. First, the red carpet was utter madness – and excitement. Ben and I mostly stayed together, but he was pulled aside every few minutes for interviews. I stayed with him, but I wasn't asked questions, other than the initial, “Aren't you excited to be at the Oscars?” Ben got to talk in little snippets about being in _12 Years a Slave_ (the movie that was up for Best Picture), but also about the difference between American and British fans, and his plans for the future. He mentioned the Foundation, and also his dream of beginning a production company in addition to the movie he was beginning to film in April. He got a lot of talking into his very short interviews!

Once we were finally in the theatre, we found that we were seated right up front, in the second row. I had seen so many of my favorite actors on the red carpet, and met a few (Jennifer Lawrence was one of the hottest stars and also a really great actor, so I was excited to have met her), but when we found our seats and I found out that _John Travolta_ was sitting behind us, I nearly swooned. Yes, I had had dinner with George Clooney, but John Travolta was an actor I had loved since birth, more or less. I'd seen _all_ his work, and loved it. I was star struck, and Ben noticed. “Say hello to him,” he encouraged.

I was nervous, but I decided if I could date the hottest British actor of the day, I could say hello to one of my all-time favorite actors. But, of course, I choked up and was not able to do any such thing. Not until the end of the show, when everybody was talking and congratulating each other, did I finally get a chance to say something to him. By then, I was on the arm of one of the cast of the Best Picture – _12 Years a Slave_ won!

The show itself was long and very entertaining. The host was Ellen DeGeneres, who was another of my lifelong favorites, and she was so funny. She even ordered pizza in the middle of the show. I was sure Ben would have had a slice, but when it came, he was backstage preparing to present an award for set design. I turned down the slice of pizza, as the butterflies in my stomach were too active to dare adding anything else. Ben was presenting at the Oscars! What a huge deal. 

When he came out with Jennifer Garner, held his arm out for her, I felt such pride I was sure I would explode. He had been very funny and gotten up to some serious antics on the red carpet, including jumping up behind Bono and U2 in the most childish way (but very fun and adorable), but when he presented, he was the consummate professional. He read the nominees, and when the winners came on stage, two women who had done the set design for The Great Gatsby, he stepped back politely and stayed off camera – which was not his usual style. He loved getting into photos, just like a little kid.

One of the most exciting points in the evening was when Lupita Nyong'o won as Best Supporting Actress for _12 Years a Slave_. She was seated at the end of our row, and Ben gave her a big hug before she went on stage to accept. He had tears in his eyes. He really loved Lupita, and I had met her on the red carpet, and talked with her a bit. She was a delightful young lady, absolutely beautiful and funny, as well. Her acceptance speech moved me to tears.

But the best moment of all was at the very end of the actual show, when _12 Years a Slave_ won for Best Picture. I couldn't believe my darling was up on stage as part of the cast of the biggest annual award possible in America. He was again professional, though he and Lupita laughed with the rest of the cast when Steve McQueen, the director of the film, finished giving his speech and jumped up and down, like a little kid, just like Ben had earlier. I was bawling, but trying not to be too obvious. I was also inadvertently texting his parents, even though I knew they were watching live in London – despite the late hour. I snuck a photo of him on stage and sent it to them, and to Amanda so she could tweet it if she was up.

The party after the show went on for many more hours. Ben and I both got properly “British pissed” and danced all night, with each other and with all sorts of other people. People who I had seen in movies for years and years. This was more surreal than my entire relationship with Ben had ever been. And once I was good and drunk, I took up the courage to ask John Travolta to _dance with me_ , and he did. I _danced_ with John Travolta, and no matter his age, he still had it.

This would no doubt remain in Ben's and my mind one of the greatest nights ever. Except I knew that one day he'd be up there for Best Actor and probably other fantastic awards, so one day this night would be superseded. But never overshadowed. One does not forget one's first Oscars!

** ** ** **

My foundation, the Peltier Foundation, officially came into existence on March 4, two days after the Oscars. The announcement was made online and on any news source that would carry it on Monday, March 10. I had spent the two months after New Year's running back and forth from meetings with lawyers, interviews for a director (Sam assured me he wasn't qualified, or it would have been him) and staff, and attending many events with Ben. He had parties and premieres and awards shows nearly every night. I wasn't able to make them all, but I made as many as I could – about three quarters. I felt like I lived in airplanes.

I wasn't the only one traveling, though. Whenever Ben had a free day, he flew to Minnesota to spend it with me. He was very involved in the final work that needed to be done to make the foundation a reality. We spent a lot of time snuggled up on the couch reading the files put together by the five researchers I had working full time to find me the best organizations deserving of our initial output. 

Project Off Streets was automatically one, even though I had already donated a significant amount to them in October. I felt a special warmth for them in my heart – look how my life had changed because of that place! Probably not as much as the lives of the people they helped, but it felt like a great deal.

By March 10, Ben's schedule had gotten way less crazy, although it was about to heat up again in April when he began some filming and voice projects he had lined up. He was able to be with me when I called a press conference to announce the opening of the Peltier Foundation. Sam was with me, as well as Donald Carter, the Foundation's director. For once, Ben was the one hanging off my arm as I made the news. I liked it this once, but was ready to go back to normal afterward.

Ben's fans turned out to be the best fans in the world, as I had already known. When they saw Ben endorse the Peltier Foundation, they began raising funds to donate to it right away. By the end of the week, they had raised and donated $16,000! This was just from social media, on which I had become pretty adept. 

Loo and Amanda boosted the appeal for funds through their Twitter accounts, and raised another $12,000 that way. This was small change compared to the size of the endowment, but for only one week's worth of fundraising, it was pretty impressive.

Ben's parents were thrilled to have a foundation named after their family, but were heartbroken when Ben told them what had happened to lead him to his particular focus. His mum sobbed and sobbed, and even his dad cried a bit. Tracy didn't cry, but I could see the sorrow on her face as Ben told them what had happened. But they absolutely supported his coming out with the story and supporting the eradication of rape culture worldwide.

It was St Patrick's Day when Ben held his press conference. Of course, I was right there next to him. As was Donald, as the Director of the entire Foundation, and Nigel Bennington, the Director of the Cumberbatch branch. Ben's offshoot would fall under the umbrella of the Peltier Foundation, but would be called the Cumberbatch Foundation. The conference was held in London, since that's where the headquarters for the Cumberbatch Foundation would be located. 

There was considerably more press at Ben's announcement, which was understandable, considering who he was. It was a good boost for the Foundation. After some preliminary announcements of the Cumberbatch Foundation in general, Nigel and Donald motioned for Ben to come up on the stage. It was time for him to disclose his violation. He took one step toward the stage, then reached back and grabbed my hand. “Please come with me,” he pleaded.

I did, of course, and he stood in front of the cameras, with lights flashing, and a polite silence while they waited for Ben to begin speaking. He had memorized his speech (a special talent of his) so he didn't have notes, but I saw him flexing his hands on the podium. His face was paler than I had seen it since before he went to LA. He looked at me, a slight degree of panic in his eyes, and I was grateful for the Xanax he had taken just ten minutes ago.

“Umm,” he said into the microphone, then squeezed me tighter to his side. Then I felt his body stiffen as he girded himself for the life-changing announcement he was about to make. “Five months ago, I was attacked by a group of women while I was in a nightclub with my girlfriend.” He nodded toward me. “We were both drugged with a common date-rape drug, and passed out. The attackers removed Jennifer to the restroom, and proceeded to assault me sexually.” There were gasps in the press pool.

Ben paused to let the shocked comments dissipate. Then he continued. “This has caused a degree of trauma in both of our lives, and we discussed at length whether to go public with the facts. What convinced us, finally, was the opportunity to do something good towards eradicating rape culture throughout the world. Jennifer has a foundation, the Peltier Foundation, and she is opening an offshoot branch of the foundation which will be called the Cumberbatch Foundation. The Peltier Foundation focuses on helping homeless youth globally. The focus of the Cumberbatch Foundation will be to eradicate rape culture throughout the world.”

Ben turned to the group of men and women sitting behind us. “Our first donations will go to five organizations, each of which have representatives here. One of the organizations is specifically dedicated to increasing awareness of the rape of men. I must be honest, I didn't believe it was possible for women to rape a man, even after it happened to me. It took awhile for me to process what had happened, and to admit to myself that I had been raped. That is what it is when a person forces sexual activity on another person who is unwilling or is incapable of making that decision, as was the case with me.”

He then introduced each of the organizations who would be receiving initial grants, and we posed for pictures. The reporters yelled out questions, some of which were rather offensive – wanting to know _exactly_ what had happened to him. We had decided that he would not give out those details in order not to downplay the severity of what had happened. But Ben wasn't taking questions, nor were any of us. We had told the press that, but I guess it was their job to try anyway.

It seemed like hours before the announcements and photographs finally ended. Ben and I made an exit to a waiting limousine, and drove back to his flat.

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, when we were snuggled in a roomy chair in the library.

“I think it went well. I think we should check the social media and see what the response is like.”

“I can't live that way, Jennifer, you know it. Do it when I'm not around.” His phone rang, and he looked at it. “It's Loo,” he said as he answered the phone and put it on speaker.

“We're both here, Loo,” he told her, and I loved that he didn't have to explain who “we both” meant. I was his other half. 

“That went very well, Ben, I'm so proud of you.”

“Thanks. It wasn't as easy as it looked.”

“You actually looked a bit ill, but I probably only noticed that because I'm your close friend.”

“I could tell, too,” I interjected. “But I was only inches from him.” I winked at Ben.

“Well I tried to avoid the social media, but since you are the Queen of Twitter, I assume that's what you're calling to tell us about.”

“You are a smart man, Benedict,” Loo said, and I could hear the grin in her voice.

“Let me guess. Fans love me even more and support me unconditionally.”

“And they want to know who hurt you and string them up.”

“Oh,” I said. “I didn't expect that. They're always so kind and lovely online.”

“Not when somebody hurts their Benedict Cumberbatch. People have been tweeting me, asking if I knew who did it and if I'd give out names. Of course I said no, since I don't; but I'm glad I don't because I might be tempted to go ahead and do it.”

“Well, the bitches are safe from harm,” Ben said, “as they are in jail, and have been sentenced each to a minimum of one year They were falling all over themselves to make deals by giving each other up, and apparently assaulting me and Jennifer wasn't the only thing they were guilty of.” We had learned this on our most recent trip to London. The woman who headed up the group actually had a three-year sentence.

“That's good,” said Loo. “But remember how the fans raised all that money for Jennifer's foundation? They're already going to work on yours, Ben, and I think they'll raise even more for you.”

“I just hope along with all this money-raising, they are spreading the word against rape culture.”

“Oh, that's a common thing on Tumblr, but it's really trending today. There are a bunch of stories passing around about people who were treated disrespectfully. Not just rape stories, but stories of how men treated women as objects, and a number of men have been posting about how they had been raped or assaulted, and thought they shouldn't say anything because people would make fun of them. You gave them the courage to speak out.”

“That was one of my objectives. I'm glad.”

Ben was playing footsie with me while we talked, and I couldn't hold back my giggles any longer. “Ooh,” said Loo, “you two sound busy. Maybe I should let you go.”

Ben looked at me hungrily. “I think that would be a good idea, Loo, talk to you later.” And he hung up, just like that, and began kissing me passionately. We never even made it to the bed.


	36. 11 August 2014

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Jennifer have one of the most important evenings of their lives together, and this long story ends with a bang - literally!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I probably haven't put enough good smutty smut into this story, so I thought I'd end it with a bang! haha! I'm going to miss working on this story every day. I hope you have enjoyed it, and I guess if you've made it this far, you must have. Do I have a tear in my eye? I think maybe I do...

The restaurant was beautiful and elegant, one I had never heard of. I listened to the soft clinking of glasses and silver on china as people enjoyed their meals, and the soft hum of voices quietly discussing the issues of the day, the important things in life, or just frivolities made serious by the beautiful surroundings. Ben pulled out my chair and tucked it back in as I sat. He was dressed in an Armani suit that was so soft, it felt like petting kittens to touch. I was dressed in an elegant black evening dress, with a silver clutch, and wearing the silver necklace and bracelet set he had given me the previous spring.

“I'm so glad to be able to take you out on the night before the big party,” he said. “I wanted to celebrate your birthday alone with you before I have to share you with everybody else.”

“I can't believe you found this gorgeous restaurant in Minneapolis, _my_ home turf,” I said, smiling and leaning towards Ben over the table so I could speak softly. 

He leaned in towards me and took my hand under the table. “I love to surprise you. I've missed you these past few weeks.” He leaned forward a little more to kiss me gently on the lips.

“It's been hectic,” I agreed. “But you're doing such good work.”

“You won't know that until the film comes out.”

“True, but I know how wonderful your play is. Considering how many times I've seen it. And who else but you could juggle a filming and a stage schedule at the same time?”

Ben grinned. “I am very talented that way, aren't I?”

He was teasing, but I was serious. “Really, Ben, to get into two totally different characters on a daily basis. You are extremely talented and extremely hard working. You're the hottest actor on the market because you deserve to be.”

“Thank you, darling, but tonight is not about me. It is your birth I am celebrating.”

“I'm not so thrilled to be turning another year older, actually.”

“I am not celebrating your age, Jennifer, but the fact that you were born. What would my life be if you hadn't been born? I can't even imagine it. I can't imagine my life without you.”

Shivers ran lightly up and down my spine. We had been talking a lot lately about our expectations out of life, and Ben was getting closer and closer to suggesting permanent arrangements. We danced around the subject, though, without actually mentioning the “M” word. It took my breath away. “I feel the same way.”

Our server came with the wine that Ben had ordered when he'd made reservations, and after he left, Ben lifted his glass in a toast. “To us,” he said. “May we never part.”

I gasped slightly, at the directness of his toast, and clinked his glass and drank.

We spent the rest of the dinner talking about how things had been going for each of us. In addition to his play and his film, Ben had done promotional work for the Cumberbatch Foundation in the past few weeks. I had been with him as often as possible, but not nearly often enough. I had been working hard at the Peltier Foundation with Sam and Donald. We were finally going to start our first program. We were going to take a neighborhood filled with condemned houses and raze it to the ground to build nice apartments – not cheap public housing-type apartments, but nice ones – for homeless families to occupy. There would be a central building that would include a rec center, a library, and other amenities for members of the community. Job services and training would be included. It would be a place for children to be safe and cared for; for youth to be busy, active, and contribute to the community in various ways; and for parents to learn what they needed to learn and receive whatever help they needed in order to secure jobs that paid enough for them to live on their own. And they wouldn't be kicked out once they were working. Families would be able to stay even after they made a decent wage, if they wanted, and become mentor families to newer families moving in. It was a project I was so excited about, I ended up talking mostly about that for the entire meal.

When we were done, Ben took me to Nicollet Mall, where a horse and carriage with driver were awaiting us. “Oh, Ben, this is amazing!” I gushed. Ben had been a romantic boyfriend for the ten months we had been together, but this topped everything. 

“I'm feeling awfully romantic this evening,” he said, tickling my ear most pleasantly with his deep voice. 

It was a warm evening, so we didn't need the blanket that lay across the seat, but we used it anyway. It created a little cozy place for just the two of us. Ben signaled the driver to go, and the horse began clop-clopping down the mall as Ben wrapped himself around me.

“I really am so grateful you were born,” he said. 

“Mm, me, too,” I agreed, leaning close to his body, loving the feeling of his arms wrapped around me. I always felt safe in Ben's arms, and loved, and cherished.

“You know I love you more than I ever knew I could love somebody.”

“I feel the same way,” I said, and Ben kissed me, deeply and warmly. No matter how many times we did this, each new kiss was as special and exciting and pleasurable as the first one had been, back in that airport so long ago. Felt like a lifetime ago. I could barely remember what life without Ben was like, and I didn't try to.

As he pulled away, Ben moved one of his arms to reach into a pocket inside his jacket. My heart leaped and I was surprised it did not pop out of my mouth. Was he? Was this the reason for all the romance?

Before I saw when Ben had pulled out, he had wrapped back around me again, and whispered in my ear softly in his baritone voice, “Marry me, my love. Please do me the honor of becoming my bride, my wife, my partner for our entire lives.”

My heart raced even faster. I had known this was coming, eventually. I had imagined he would wait until the one-year anniversary of our meeting, and wasn't expecting it so soon. But I felt a surge of joy, as my eyes filled with tears. “Oh, yes, Ben, of course, I'm all yours, forever.” We kissed longer and more deeply. The beauty of downtown was being lost entirely on us, as we had only eyes for each other. But after our less-than-entirely romantic story of how we met, I appreciated this entirely romantic story of how we got engaged. Both were special to me – but this would be the funner one to tell.

When we finally broke apart, reluctantly, Ben showed me what he had pulled out of his pocket. It wasn't in a box, and it looked antique. A beautiful ring, with a large diamond surrounded by smaller pieces of deep blue gems, all cut so as to sparkle whenever the faintest light hit them. He put it on my hand, and of course it fit perfectly. “This was my grandmother's ring,” he told me, confirming my belief that it was antique, “and she gave it to my mother to give to me for when I found the woman I wanted to marry. I would be so pleased if you would accept it as your engagement ring.”

I waved my hand out into the sparkly darkness, lit by street lamps and all the other lights of the city. The gems all sparkled prettily, and I answered Ben's request with another kiss. I couldn't keep my mouth off of him, and I started to wish the carriage ride would end soon, so we could go back to my house and show each other our love for the first time as two people who were engaged to be connected forever.

** ** ** **

We barely got in the door before we were ripping each other's clothes off. Usually we spent a lot of time together, taking our time to be fully aroused and ready to make love. But tonight, we were fierce. I wanted _naked_ Ben on me, in me, and _now_. I reached back and locked the door after we got in, but that was my only nod to propriety. We headed toward the living room, knowing the bedroom was way too far away. We were naked by the time we reached the sofa.

Instead of lying down on the sofa, Ben bent me forward over the back of it. “I want to do this from behind, Jennifer,” he growled into my ear, as he leaned forward, placed his cock between my legs, and reached around to rub my where I so badly needed to be rubbed.

“Oh, yes, do it now, Ben,” I purred. I spread my legs a bit wider, and reached back to guide his enormously hard cock into me. I was already so wet, as I had begun getting ready while we were still in the carriage, and our dirty talk in the car ride on the way home hadn't changed things. I was ready to come the moment he touched me, but I waited, so we could be together in our release.

Ben began by thrusting slowly, rubbing my clit while he entered my wetness from behind. I wasn't satisfied with this, however. I wanted to feel him pounding me as hard as he could. We had never had this kind of sex when sober before, but I felt like I wanted him to claim me the way a caveman would claim his woman. Despite being a true feminist, this animal need to belong to him, to be marked as his property, as violently as necessary, washed over me. “Harder, Ben, harder,” I said, replacing his hand with my own, knowing that my coming wouldn't take long at all.

Ben groaned, and grabbed my hips, pulling me up higher on the couch. I pulled my knees up so that I was kneeling on the back of the couch instead of trying to stand on the floor, and Ben moaned again. He was positioned just right to fuck me hard and fast, and after getting his rhythm going, that's what he did. He grunted my name with each thrust, and I reveled in the pounding I was taking. This was beyond anything we had done previously, but I loved it. Now that I knew we belonged to each other, forever, I was willing to get a little more daring in our sex life. 

I continued my self-ministrations with one hand, while I reached back and grabbed Ben's ass with the other. I pulled hard on his buttock each time he thrust into me, and this time he roared with pleasure. “Oh, God!” he yelled and thrust into me hard and stayed there, spasming inside of me. He thrust a few more times, and then replaced my hand with his as he guided me to my climax in moments. 

I rolled forward onto the couch, and pulled Ben over the back of it on top of me. We rested for a short time, but I wasn't done with him that night; not even close. We ended up making love on the couch, and then in the shower, and then in the bed. I couldn't believe our stamina – especially Ben's. Supposedly by his age, he should be slowing down. But it seemed like just the opposite was happening.

When we finally lay in bed, spent for the night, Ben whispered in my ear, “No matter how long we live, we have got to do that every once in awhile.”

I smiled and looked into his eyes. “I'll never stop wanting you, Ben, no matter what happens to our bodies. God, you please me in every way possible.”

“Mrs Cumberbatch,” he whispered. I giggled. “What?” asked Ben, a little hurt.

“It's just, that sounds like your mom's name.”

“It's actually not – she never took Dad's name. And if she had, it would have been Carlton, because when he was coming up, actors couldn't have funny names like Cumberbatch.”

“So I'll be the only Mrs Cumberbatch in the family?” I asked, feeling a little awed at the idea.

“You will belong to me, and your name will be Mrs Cumberbatch,” Ben said, growling a little, and wrapping his body around me. We were too spent to do anything more than kiss and rub our hands over one another as a sign of this new ownership agreement.

“I will belong to you,” I agreed, “and you will belong to me.”

“Fuck that,” Ben grunted. “You _already_ belong to me, and I _already_ belong to you.”

“I love you so much,” I told him.

“I love you, too, darling, now and forever.”

** ** ** **

EPILOGUE

As this part of the saga of Jennifer and Ben comes to a close, many of you will want to know what happens next, or what happens with other characters. First, weddings galore in 2014 and 2015. Elaine and Melissa were married a month before this proposal, and Jennifer and Ben had both been in the wedding party. Sam and Lisa got married at the end of 2015, after finally becoming a serious couple around the time of Ben and Jennifer's engagement. Vivienne didn't marry Robert, but they lived together for six years, before finally breaking up. Vivienne then married a man she had known all her life, who had always been in love with her, even though he had dated other people as she was doing. His name was Alphonse.

Ben and Jennifer went on to have four children, and numerous dogs, including many Australian shepherds. Jennifer stayed home with the children, running the Foundation from her home office, and taking care of the children with the help of a nanny during the days. She enabled Ben to pursue his career, while providing a stable home that he was present at as often as possible, and sometimes even more than that. They agreed to raise the children with a British education, so home was a lovely old mansion just north of London during the school year. During the summer break, and for many of the holiday breaks, the family traveled to Jennifer's home in Minnesota, where Elaine and Melissa lived year-round. They didn't mind sharing the home when they visited, and Elaine and Melissa, Kayla and Derek, and the couple's two children together, Elise and Francoise, were as much a part of their family as any blood relatives.

As to the further adventures of Ben and Jennifer – keep your eyes open, I'm sure I'll return to them for some shorter slices of their life – maybe we'll see their wedding, their babies born – heck, maybe we'll see them send their kids off to college. 

Thank you for reading my fan fic – the first writing I've done in many years. This story, and you readers, will always have a very special place in my heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised to leave you with another Benedict Cumberbatch story to keep you going, so here is a link to the incredible tale Cee-Jay-One is spinning, called Stained Glass. If you liked my story you will LOVE hers!
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1222741/chapters/2504428
> 
> Enjoy!


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